"It was placed here; I feel it, I know it," says Mona, solemnly, laying her hand upon the panel. Her earnestness impresses him. He wakes into life.,
So saying, he embraces her warmly, and, running downstairs, jumps into the dog-cart, and drives away behind the "vicious Black Bess.",
"But why should night produce melancholy?" says Nicholas, dreamily. "It is but a reflection of the greater light, after all. What does Richter call it? 'The great shadow and profile of day.' It is our own morbid fancies that make us dread it.".
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