"You will not be able to go, my dear." "I do not quite despair yet.

I shall not give it up till a quarter after twelve.

This is just the time of day for it to clear up, and I do think it looks a little lighter.

There, it is twenty minutes after twelve, and now I shall give it up entirely.

Oh! That we had such weather here as they had at Udolpho, or at least in Tuscany and the south of France!--the night that poor St.Aubin died!--such beautiful weather!" At half past twelve, when Catherine's anxious attention to the weather was over and she could no longer claim any merit from its amendment, the sky began voluntarily to clear.