She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. "To make your mind perfectly easy on the score of Mrs. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened. Well, one must hope, that was all. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. ‘I don’t want that girl running her head into any more danger. I don’t care. The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you.
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