She laid
aside her work, and locking herself in her chamber gave vent to her
feelings in a passionate flood of tears. She tried to conquer her
feelings and summon her woman's pride to her aid, but it would not
do. "Cruel Edward," she mentally exclaimed, "you might have spared me
this, or told me the cause of this neglect and coldness." And as she
reflected upon the trapping of wealth with which he was surrounded,
and the splendor of his equipage, she asked herself, "can it be that
love of gold is the cause?" Echo answered "can it be?"
As the weary night drew to a close, the tempest in the poor girl's
bosom began to subside. But as the heaving ocean bears upon its waves
plank after plank of the ship-wrecked vessel that has been stranded
upon its tempest tossed bosom, so did the surging waves of memory
bring back one incident after another in her past life, and picture
the tender looks and the tender tones of the unfaithful Edward, during
the many long years she had regarded him as her future husband. To him
she had yielded up her heart's best affections. For his sake she had
rejected many an advantageous offer of marriage.
She met the family in the morning with quite a composed countenance,
but with a sad heart.
In the afternoon she went to her uncle's to visit her grandmother,
thinking, perhaps, change of place might produce some change in her
feelings. It was a delightful afternoon. The sun shed that soft
subdued light so peculiar to the season, over the face of nature,
which seemed rather approximating to maturity than verging to decay.
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