Dinah put her ear to the partition and heard still some slight noises, which convinced her that Hetty was not yet in bed.

Still she hesitated; she was not quite certain of a divine direction; the voice that told her to go to Hetty seemed no stronger that the other voice which said that Hetty was weary, and that going to her now in an unseasonable moment would only tend to close her heart more obstinately.
Dinah was not satisfied without a more unmistakable guidance than those inward voices.

There was light enough for her, if she opened her Bible, to discern the text sufficiently to know what it would say to her.

She knew the physiognomy of every page, and could tell on what book she opened, sometimes on what chapter, without seeing title or number.

It was a small thick Bible, worn quite round at the edges.