ing hand upon the table between them, and sat looking
at her.--'that I was changed. I was surprised to hear you say so, but
I understand, now, that I am. Don't be angry with me, Walter. I was too
much overjoyed to think of it, then.'

She seemed a child to him again. It was the ingenuous, confiding, loving
child he saw and heard. Not the dear woman, at whose feet he would have
laid the riches of the earth.

'You remember the last time I saw you, Walter, before you went away?'

He put his hand into his breast, and took out a little purse.

'I have always worn it round my neck! If I had gone down in the deep, it
would have been with me at the bottom of the sea.'

'And you will wear it still, Walter, for my old sake?'

'Until I die!'

She laid her hand on his, as fearlessly and simply, as if not a day had
intervened since she gave him the little token of remembrance.

'I am glad of that. I shall be always glad to think so, Walter. Do you
recollect that a thought of this change seemed to come into our minds at
the same time that evening, when we were talking together?'

'No!' he answered, in a wondering tone.

'Yes, Walter. I had been the means of injuring your hopes and prospects
even then. I feared to think so, then, but I know it now. If you were
able, then, in your generosity, to hide from me that you knew it too,
you cannot do so now, although you try as generously as before. You do.
I thank you for it, Walter, deeply, truly; but you cannot succeed.
You have suffered too much in your own hardships, and in those of your
dearest relation, quite to overlook the innocent cause of all the peril
and affliction that has befallen you. You cannot quite forget me in that
character, and we can be brother and sister no longer. But, dear
Walter, do not think that I complain of you in this. I might have known
it--ought to have known it--but forgot it in my joy. All I hope is that
you may think of me less irksomely when this feeling is no more a secret
one; and all I ask is, Walter, in the name of the poor child who was
your sister once, that you will not struggle with yourself, and pain
yourself, for my sake, now that I know all!'

Walter had looked upon her while she said this, with a face so full of
wonder and amazement, that it had room for nothing else. Now he caught
up the hand that touched his, so entreatingly, and held it between his
own.

'Oh, Miss Dombey,' he said, 'is it possible that while I have been
suffer