Perhaps--no,
it would never do. When he comes and finds that, after all, I have
deserted him, once with a word I angered him, and for years it was the
last between us;--and what safer chance will there be in these fearful
times of meeting him? No, no. If we do not meet now, we are parted for
ever;--if I do not keep my promise now, I shall see him no more.
_Mrs. G_. See him no more then. What is he to us--this stranger, this
haughty, all-requiring one? Think of the blessed days ere he had crossed
our threshold. You have counted all, Helen? The anguish that will bring
tears into your proud brother's eyes, your sister's comfortless
sorrow?--did you think of her lonely and saddened youth? You counted the
wild suffering of this bitter moment,--did you think of the weary years,
the long sleepless nights of grief, the days of tears; did you count the
anguish of a mother's broken heart, Helen? God only can count that.
You did not--there come the blessed tears at last. Here's my own gentle
daughter, once again. Come, Helen, see, they are waiting for us. There
stands the old chaise under the locust tree. You and I will ride
together.
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