that we have before us.”

He embraced her, solemnly commended her to Heaven, and

humbly thanked Heaven for having bestowed her on him. By-and-

by, they went into the house.

There was no one bidden to the marriage but Mr. Lorry; there

was even to be no bridesmaid but the gaunt Miss Pross. The

marriage was to make no change in their place of residence; they

had been able to extend it, by taking to themselves the upper

rooms formerly belonging to the apocryphal invisible lodger, and

they desired nothing more.

Doctor Manette was very cheerful at the little supper. They

were only three at table, and Miss Pross made the third. He

regretted that Charles was not there; was more than half disposed

to object to the loving little plot that kept him away; and drank to

him affectionately.

So, the time came for him to bid Lucie good night, and they

separated. But, in the stillness of the third hour of the morning,

Lucie came downstairs again, and stole into his room; not free

from unshaped fears, beforehand.

All things, however, were in their places; all was quiet; and he

lay asleep, his white hair picturesque on the untroubled pillow,

and his hands lying quiet on the coverlet. She put her needless

candle in the shadow at a distance, crept up to his bed, and put

her lips to his; then, leaned over him, and looked at him.

Into his handsome face, the bitter waters of captivity had worn;

but, he covered up their tracks with a determination so strong,

that he held the mastery of them even in his sleep. A more

remarkable face in its quiet, resolute, and guarded struggle with

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

an unseen assailant, was not to be beheld in all the wide

dominions of sleep, that night.

She timidly laid her hand on his dear breast, and put up a

prayer that she might ever be as true to him as her love aspired to

be, and as his sorrows deserved. Then, she withdrew her hand,

and kissed his lips once more, and went away. So, the sunrise

came, and the shadows of the leaves of the plane-tree moved upon

his face, as softly as her lips had moved in praying for him.

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

Chapter XXIV

NINE DAYS

T

he marriage-day was shining brightly, and they were

ready outside the closed door of the Doctor’s room, where

he was speaking with Charles Darnay. They were ready to

go to church; the beautiful bride, Mr. Lorry, and Miss Prossto

whom the event, through a gradual process of reconcilement to

the inevitable, would have been one of absolute bliss, but for the

yet lingering consideration that her brother Solomon should have

been the bridegroom.

“And so,” said Mr. Lorry, who could not sufficiently admire the