CHAPTER XXVIII 425
vagrant , and disowned by the wide world . I dared to put off the mendicant -- to resume my natural manner and character . I began once more to know myself ; and when Mr . St . John demanded an account -- which at present I was far too weak to render -- I said after a brief pause -
" Sir , I can give you no details to-night ." " But what , then ," said he , " do you expect me to do for you ?"
" Nothing ," I replied . My strength sufficed for but short answers . Diana took the word -
" Do you mean ," she asked , " that we have now given you what aid you require ? and that we may dismiss you to the moor and the rainy night ?"
I looked at her . She had , I thought , a remarkable countenance , instinct both with power and goodness . I took sudden courage . Answering her compassionate gaze with a smile , I said -- " I will trust you . If I were a masterless and stray dog , I know that you would not turn me from your hearth to-night : as it is , I really have no fear . Do with me and for me as you like ; but excuse me from much discourse -- my breath is short -- I feel a spasm when I speak ." All three surveyed me , and all three were silent .
" Hannah ," said Mr . St . John , at last , " let her sit there at present , and ask her no questions ; in ten minutes more , give her the remainder of that milk and bread . Mary and Diana , let us go into the parlour and talk the matter over ."
They withdrew . Very soon one of the ladies returned -- I could not tell which . A kind of pleasant stupor was stealing over me as I sat by the genial fire . In an undertone she gave some directions to Hannah . Ere long , with the servant ' s aid , I contrived to mount a staircase ; my dripping clothes were removed ; soon a warm , dry bed received me . I thanked God -- experienced amidst unutterable exhaustion a glow of grateful joy -- and slept .