I buried all my troubles there. What is the hour?"

"Hard upon two," replied Peverell.

"Then I must be busy," replied Madge, in a wild, hurried manner, and
smiling at Peverell, with a look of much importance, as if what she had
to do were some profound secret. "You'll not betray me, if I tell you?"
she continued, taking his hand--"Feel!" and she placed it on her heart.
"One, two; one, two; one, two--and so it goes on; it cannot beat beyond
two! Oh, God! in what pain it is before it breaks!"

She now returned to the chair from which she had risen, at the sound of
Peverell's voice. He approached nearer; and (with a view rather to draw
her gently from her own thoughts, than from any desire that she should
leave his house,) he asked her "if she would go home?"

"Yes," she replied; "bear with me yet a little while, and I'll go. It is
near the time I promised Marian, when last I kissed her wintry cheek, as
she lay shrouded in her coffin; and I may not fail. Lord! Lord! what a
troubled and worthless world this seems to me now! A week ago, and the sun,
and the moon, and the stars, and the green earth, and all that was upon it,
were dear to mine eyes; and I should have wept to look my last at them!
But now, I behold nothing it contains, save my Marian's grave! You will
see _me_ laid in it, for pity's sake--won't you?"

"Ay," said Peverell, "but that will be when I am gray, and thinking of my
own: so, cheer up. He that shall toll the bell for thee, now sleeps in his
cradle, I'll warrant."

She beckoned Peverell to her, and taking his hand, she again placed it on