Page:Wuthering Heights and Agnes Grey (1st edition), Volume 3 (Agnes Grey).djvu/310

302 He had not breathed a word of love, or dropped one hint of tenderness or affection, and yet I had been supremely happy. To be near him, to hear him talkas he did talk; and to feel that he thought me worthy to be so spoken tocapable of understanding and duly appreciating such discoursewas enough.

"Yes Edward Weston, I could indeed be happy in a house full of enemies, if I had but one frendfriend [sic] who truly, deeply, and faithfully loved me, and if that friend were you—though we might be far apartseldom to hear from each other, still more seldom to meetthough toil, and trouble, and vexation might surround me, stillit would be too much happiness for me to dream of! Yet who can tell," said I within myself, as I proceeded up the park, "who can tell what this one month may bring forth? I have lived nearly three and twenty years, and I have suffered much, and tasted little pleasure yet: is it likely my life all through will be so clouded? Is it not possible that God may hear my prayers, disperse these gloomy shadows, and grant me some beams of heaven's sunshine yet? Will he entirely deny to me those blessings which are so freely given to others, who neither ask them