"There is a thick veil between thy heart and thy God now;
let the love thou bearest this young Englishman be the blessed means
of removing it, and bringing thee to the sole source of salvation, the
Saviour Stanley worships. One word--one little word--from thee, and
thou shalt be Stanley's wife! His own; dearer than ever from the
trials of the past. Oh! speak it, Marie! Let me feel I have saved thee
from everlasting torment, and made this life--in its deep, calm joy--a
foretaste of the heaven that, as a Christian, will await thee above.
Spare Stanley--aye, and thy Sovereign--the bitter grief of losing thee
for ever!"
"Would--would I could!" burst wildly from the heart-stricken Marie;
and she wrung her hands in that one moment of intense agony, and
looked up in the Queen's face, with an expression of suffering
Isabella could not meet. "Would that obedience, conviction, could come
at will! His wife?--Stanley's. To rest this desolate heart on his? To
weep upon his bosom?--feel his arm around me?--his love protect me? To
be his--all his? And only on condition of speaking one little word?
Oh! why can I not speak it? Why will that dread voice sound within,
telling me I dare not--cannot--for I do not believe? How dare I take
the Christians's vow, embrace the cross, and in my heart remain a
Jewess still?"
"Embrace the cross, and conviction will follow," replied the Queen.
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