In the mean time
Lord Fawn did not come to see her. So she wrote to him. "My dear Frederic:
Had you not better come to me? Yours affectionately, L. I go to the North
at the end of this month."
But Frank Greystock did visit her, more than once. On the day after the
above letter was written he came to her. It was on Sunday afternoon, when
July was more than half over, and he found her alone. Miss Macnulty had
gone to church, and Lizzie was lying listlessly on a sofa with a volume of
poetry in her hand. She had, in truth, been reading the book, and in her
way enjoying it. It told her the story of certain knights of old, who had
gone forth in quest of a sign from heaven, which sign, if verily seen by
them, might be taken to signify that they themselves were esteemed holy,
and fit for heavenly joy. One would have thought that no theme could have
been less palatable to such a one as Lizzie Eustace; but the melody of the
lines had pleased her ear, and she was always able to arouse for herself a
false enthusiasm on things which were utterly outside herself in life. She
thought she too could have travelled in search of that holy sign, and have
borne all things, and abandoned all things, and have persevered, and of a
certainty have been rewarded.
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