"Marie--and thus!" he passionately exclaimed; and flinging himself
on his knees beside her, he buried his face on her hand, and wept in
agony.
* * * * *
Nearly an hour passed ere Marie could rally from the agitation of
Arthur's unexpected presence sufficiently to speak. She lay with her
hand clasped in his, and his arm around her--realizing, indeed, to the
full, the soothing consolation of his presence, but utterly powerless
to speak that for which she had so longed to see him once again. The
extent of her weakness had been unknown till that moment either to
her uncle or herself, and Julien watched over her in terror lest the
indefinable change which in that hour of stillness was perceptibly
stealing over her features should be indeed the dim shadow of death.
To Arthur speech was equally impossible, save in the scarcely
articulate expressions of love and veneration which he lavished on
her. What he had hoped in thus seeking her he could not himself have
defined. His whole soul was absorbed in the wild wish to see her
again, and the thoughts of death for her had never entered his heart.
The shock, then, had been terrible, and to realize the infinite mercy
which thus bade sorrow cease, was in such a moment impossible. He
could but gaze and clasp her closer and closer, yet, as if even death
should be averted by his love.
Pages:
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390