and various thoughts, sleep had at length overcome the stout armourer
in the chair in which he had deposited himself. His features, in
repose, had a more firm and manly cast than Catharine had thought,
who, having generally seen them fluctuating between shamefacedness
and apprehension of her displeasure, had been used to connect with
them some idea of imbecility.

"He looks very stern," she said; "if he should be angry? And then
when he awakes--we are alone--if I should call Dorothy--if
I should wake my father? But no! it is a thing of custom, and done
in all maidenly and sisterly love and honour. I will not suppose
that Henry can misconstrue it, and I will not let a childish
bashfulness put my gratitude to sleep."

So saying, she tripped along the floor of the apartment with a
light, though hesitating, step; and a cheek crimsoned at her own
purpose; and gliding to the chair of the sleeper, dropped a kiss
upon his lips as light as if a rose leaf had fallen on them. The
slumbers must have been slight which such a touch could dispel,
and the dreams of the sleeper must needs have been connected with
the cause of the interruption, since Henry, instantly starting up,
caught the maiden in his arms, and attempted to return in ecstasy
the salute which had broken his repose. But Catharine struggled
in his embrace; and as her efforts implied alarmed modesty rather
than maidenly coyness, her bashful lover suffered her to escape a
grasp from which twenty times her strength could not have extricated
her.

"Nay, be not angry, good Henry," said Catharine, in the kindest tone,
to her surprised lover. "I have paid my vows to St. Valentine, to