gs of despair, must be hidden in
the depths of the prison-house. Every groan must be stifled before it
is heard: and as for tears--they are a solace too gentle for the case.
The agony is too strong for tears."

"Is this true love?" asked Margaret, in agitation.

"This is true love; but not the whole of it. As for what follows--"

"But is this what every woman has to undergo?"

"Do you suppose that every woman knows what love really is? No; not
even every unmarried woman. There are some among them, though I believe
but few, who know nothing of what love is; and there are, undoubtedly, a
multitude of wives who have experienced liking, preference, affection,
and taken it for love; and who reach their life's end without being
aware that they have never loved. There are also, I trust, a multitude
of wives who have really loved, and who have reaped the best fruits of
it in regeneration of soul."

"But how dreadful is the process, if it be as you say!"

"I said I had alluded to only a part of it. As for what follows,
according as it is prosperous or unreturned love, heaven ensues upon
this purgatory, or one may attain a middle region, somewhat dim, but
serene. You wish me to be plainer?"

"I wish to hear all you think--all you know. But do not let us go on
with it if it makes you sigh so."

"What woman ever spoke of love without sighing?" said Maria, with a
smile. "You sighed yourself, just now."

"I was thinking of Hester, I believe. How strange, if this process
really awaits women--if it is a region through which their path of life
must stretch--and no one gives warning, or preparation, or help!"

"It is not so strange as at first sight it seems. Every mother and
friend hopes that no one else has suffered as she did--that her
particular charge may escape entirely, or get off more easily. Then
there is the shame of confession which is involved: some conclude, at a
distance of time, that they must have exaggerated their own sufferings,
or have been singularly rebellious and unreasonable. Some lose the
sense of the anguish in the subsequent happiness; and there are not a
few who, from constitution of mind, forget altogether `the things that
are behind.' When you remember, too, that it is the law of nature and
providence that each should bear his and her own burden, and that no
warning would be of any avail, it seems no longer so strange that while
girls hear endlessly of marriage, they are kept wholly i