ye myself,
you blushin' beauty! Sweet's your eyes, and your hair do take one
so--lyin' back. I'd never forgive my father if he kep me away from ye
four-and-twenty hours just. Husband o' that!" Berry pointed at the young
wife's loveliness. "Ye look so ripe with kisses, and there they are
a-languishin'!--... You never look so but in your bed, ye beauty!--just
as it ought to be." Lucy had to pretend to rise to put out the light
before Berry would give up her amorous chaste soliloquy. Then they lay in
bed, and Mrs. Berry fondled her, and arranged for their departure
to-morrow, and reviewed Richard's emotions when he came to hear he was
going to be made a father by her, and hinted at Lucy's delicious shivers
when Richard was again in his rightful place, which she, Bessy Berry, now
usurped; and all sorts of amorous sweet things; enough to make one fancy
the adage subverted, that stolen fruits are sweetest; she drew such
glowing pictures of bliss within the law and the limits of the
conscience, till at last, worn out, Lucy murmured "Peepy, dear Berry,"
and the soft woman gradually ceased her chirp.

Bessy Berry did not sleep. She lay thinking of the sweet brave heart
beside her, and listening to Lucy's breath as it came and went; squeezing
the fair sleeper's hand now and then, to ease her love as her reflections
warmed. A storm of wind came howling over the Hampshire hills, and sprang
white foam on the water, and shook the bare trees. It passed, leaving a
thin cloth of snow on the wintry land. The moon shone brilliantly. Berry
heard the house-dog bark. His bark was savage and persistent. She was
roused by the noise. By and by she fancied she heard a movement in the
house; then it seemed to her that the house-door opened. She cocked her
ears, and could almost make out voices in the midnight stillness. She
slipped from the bed, locked and bolted the door of the room, assured
herself of Lucy's unconsciousness, and went on tiptoe to the window. The
trees all stood white to the north; the ground glittered; the cold was
keen. Berry wrapped her fat arms across her bosom, and peeped as close
over into the garden as the situation of the window permitted. Berry was
a soft, not a timid, woman: and it happened this night that her thoughts
were above the fears of the dark. She was sure of the voices; curiosity
without a shade of alarm held her on the watch; and gathering bundles of
her day-apparel round her neck and shoulders, she silenced