Oh! my husband, I turn to thee alone, under
my God, for rest and peace. If I might not give thee the wild passions
of my youth, when my heart was sought, and won ere I was myself
conscious of the precipice I neared, I cling to thee now alone--I
would be thine alone. Oh, take me to thy heart, and let me lie there.
Ferdinand, Ferdinand! forgive me!--love--save me from myself!"
"Ay, now and ever! Come to my heart, beloved one!" answered her
husband, rousing himself from all of personal suffering to comfort
her; and he drew her to him till her head rested on his bosom. "Now
tell me thy sorrowing tale, to me so wrapt in mystery. Fear not
from me. It is enough thou clingest to me in such sweet guileless
confidence still."
She obeyed him; and the heavy weight of suffering years seemed
lightening as she spoke. From her first meeting Arthur, to that
morning's harrowing interview, every feeling, every incident, every
throb of reproach and dread were revealed with such touching and
childlike truth, that even in his suffering, Morales unconsciously
clasped his wife closer and closer to him, as if her very confidence
and truth, rendered her yet dearer than before, and inexpressibly
soothed at the very moment that they pained. Their interview was long,
but fraught with mutual comfort.
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