He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. This charming episode was repeated three times. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. "Before either of you go, you will ask my permission," said Jonathan, coolly. It gave her joy to see them laughing, even though she was unsure of what she had done wrong. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell.
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