Yet, amid these marks of distress, there was nothing negligent or ill-arranged about her attire; even her hair, though totally without ornament, was disposed with her usual attention to neatness.

The first words she uttered were, 'Have you seen him ?' 'Alas, no,' answered Waverley; 'I have been refused admittance.' 'It accords with the rest,' she said; 'but we must submit.

Shall you obtain leave, do you suppose ?' 'For--for--to-morrow,' said Waverley; but muttering the last word so faintly that it was almost unintelligible.
'Aye, then or never,' said Flora, 'until'-- she added, looking upward, 'the time when, I trust, we shall all meet.

But I hope you will see him while earth yet bears him.

He always loved you at his heart, though--but it is vain to talk of the past.' 'Vain indeed!' echoed Waverley.
'Or even of the future, my good friend,' said Flora, 'so far as earthly events are concerned; for how often have I pictured to myself the strong possibility of this horrid issue, and tasked myself to consider how I could support my part; and yet how far has all my anticipation fallen short of the unimaginable bitterness of this hour!' 'Dear Flora, if your strength of mind'-- 'Aye, there it is,' she answered, somewhat wildly; 'there is, Mr.
Waverley, there is a busy devil at my heart, that whispers--but it were madness to listen to it--that the strength of mind on which Flora prided herself has murdered her brother!' 'Good God! how can you give utterance to a thought so shocking ?' 'Aye, is it not so ?--but yet it haunts me like a phantom: I know it is unsubstantial and vain; but it will be present--will intrude its horrors on my mind--will whisper that my brother, as volatile as ardent, would have divided his energies amid a hundred objects.