oss of any other toy, I deprive you of
nothing, but add to your comfort, and (if there be such a thing) to your
happiness, when I forbid you ever to see that foolish child again. All
marriage is a wretched farce, even when man and wife belong to the same
rank of life, have temper well assorted, similar likes and dislikes, and
about the same pittance of mind. But when they are not so matched,
the farce would become a long, dull tragedy, if anything were worth
lamenting. There, I have reasoned enough with you; I am not in the habit
of reasoning. Though I have little confidence in man's honour, I have
some reliance in woman's pride. You will pledge your word in Lorna's
presence never to see or to seek her again; never even to think of her
more. Now call her, for I am weary."

He kept his great eyes fixed upon me with their icy fire (as if he
scorned both life and death), and on his haughty lips some slight
amusement at my trouble; and then he raised one hand (as if I were a
poor dumb creature), and pointed to the door. Although my heart rebelled
and kindled at his proud disdain, I could not disobey him freely; but
made a low salute, and went straightway in search of Lorna.

I found my love (or not my love; according as now she should behave; for
I was very desperate, being put upon so sadly); Lorna Doone was crying
softly at a little window, and listening to the river's grief. I laid
my heavy arm around her, not with any air of claiming or of forcing
her thoughts to me, but only just to comfort her, and ask what she was
thinking of. To my arm she made no answer, neither to my seeking eyes;
but to my heart, once for all, she spoke with her own upon it. Not a
word, nor sound between us; not even a kiss was interchanged; but man,
or maid, who has ever loved hath learned our understanding.

Therefore it came to pass, that we saw fit to enter Sir Ensor's room in
the following manner. Lorna, with her right hand swallowed entirely by
the palm of mine, and her waist retired from view by means of my left
arm. All one side of her hair came down, in a way to be remembered, upon
the left and fairest part of my favourite otter-skin waistcoat; and
her head as well would have lain there doubtless, but for the danger
of walking so. I, for my part, was too far gone to lag behind in the
matter; but carried my love bravely, fearing neither death nor hell,
while she abode beside me.

Old Sir Ensor looked much astonished. For forty years he