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Page 70
"Maria," returned Ronayne, impressively, and with an
expression of much pain at the remark, "as I have already
said, I can make every allowance, in recollection of the
painful scene of which I have, in some degree, been the
cause, but is it generous--is it quite appreciating my
character and my feelings towards yourself, to doubt that
I had intended from the first, and at a fitting moment,
to explain every thing to you?"
Again was the confidence of the generous girl established,
and with almost passionate warmth, she exclaimed. "Oh!
Ronayne, forgive--forgive me, but this melancholy--this
harrowing occurrence has made me so far not myself--that
I almost hate myself. Tell me, dear Ronayne, do you
forgive me?"
"Yes, from the bottom of my soul, do I forgive you, and
yet, dearest, there is nothing to forgive, for how could
it be otherwise, than that your poor and sorely tried
heart should be subjected to wild imaginings inexplicable
to yourself. The ordeal to which you have been submitted,
is a severe one, but I am sure your oppressed heart will
be greatly lightened when you shall have been in possession
of the truth connected with this most melancholy affair--
your regard for me, will if possible, be even greater
than before. Pardon this seeming vanity. I make the
assertion because I know it will not a little console
you, under this terrible infliction."
It was a strange sight, that of these lovers, hitherto
so devoted and now only temporarily half-doubting, talking
of the fate of one parent while leaning over the apparent
death-bed of the other.
"Ronayne, dear Ronayne, I am satisfied--fully, wholly
satisfied, and as you observe, the assurance which you
have now given me, will form my chief support under this
double affliction," and she pointed, weeping, to her
mother, whose scarcely perceptible breathing alone attested
that she lived.
"Maria," he said tenderly and gravely, as he took her
hand in his, over the invalid--"the hour of your promise
is come--the fate of your father is known--would that it
had been less abruptly revealed--and were other inducement
to keep it wanting, is it not to be found here? But at
this moment I will ask nothing which you may feel reluctance
in granting. To-morrow we will speak of this again--to-morrow
you shall know how much I have sought--how much I have
risked--to soften the pang which I knew would, soon or
late be inflicted on her whom I so love."
"Generous--kind--considerate Ronayne, I can fully understand
you, yet, ah! what must you think of me, who could for
a moment doubt your power to explain every act of your
life, however ambiguous in appearance. But what is that
paper you have taken from your pocket-book?"
"One that I have long designed for your perusal. It was
written a few days after the events at the farm, and I
have since then frequently determined to place it in your
hands in order that, in the sacredness of solitude, you
might indulge in the bitter tears its few pages will
wring from you; but too selfish--yes, selfish, and severely
am I punished for it--to suffer the joy of the hour to
be broken in upon by sadness, I have hitherto delayed
putting you in possession of that which, if only
communicated a day earlier, would have spared us this
painful scene. But I hear footsteps approaching. They
must be those of Mrs. Elmsley and the doctor, with
Catherine. Be not surprised, dearest, if I leave you soon
after they enter, for I have something to do this evening
which will require my presence in the Fort. Early in the
morning, however, I shall be here."
"I understand well what demands your presence elsewhere,"
she returned with a look of deep gratitude and love. "Oh!
Ronayne, whatever may happen," and the tears streamed
down her pale face, as she pointed to her mother--"hear
me declare that whatever you may ask of me one month
hence, I shall not consider myself justified in refusing."
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