amily."
Lucy looked upon him with a feeling of admiration which could not be
misunderstood. "Dear Charles," she exclaimed; "ever honorable--ever
generous--ever considerate and unselfish; I do not of course understand
your allusions; but I am confident that whatever you do will be done in
a spirit worthy of yourself."
The look of admiration, and why should we not add love, which Lucy had
bestowed upon him was observed and felt deeply. Their eyes met, and,
seizing her hand again, he whispered, in that low and tender voice which
breathes the softest and most contagious emotion of the heart, "Alas,
Lucy, you could not even dream how inexpressibly dear you are to me.
Without you, life to me will possess no blessing. All that I ever
conceived of its purest and most exalted enjoyments were centred in you,
and in that sweet communion which I thought we were destined to hold
together; but now, now--oh, my God, what a blank will my whole future
existence be without you!"
"Charles--Charles," she replied, but at the same time her eyes were
swimming in tears, "spare me this; do not overload my heart with such an
excess of sorrow; have compassion on me, for I am already too sensible
of my own misery--too sensible of the happiness I have lost. I am
here isolated and alone, with no kind voice to whisper one word of
consolation to my unhappy heart, my poor maid only excepted; and I am
often forced, in order to escape the pain of present reflections, to
make a melancholy struggle once more to entrance myself in the innocent
dreams of my early life. Yes, and I will confess it, to call back if I
can those visions that gave the delicious hues of hope and happiness
to the love which bound your heart and mine together. The illusion,
however, is too feeble to struggle successfully with the abiding
consciousness of my wretchedness, and I awake to a bitterness of anguish
that is drinking up the fountains of my life, out of which life I feel,
if this state continues, I shall soon pass away."
On concluding, she wiped away the tears that were fast falling; and her
lover was so deeply moved that he could scarcely restrain his own.
"There is one word, dearest Lucy," he replied, "but though short it is
full of comfort--hope."
"Alas! Charles, I feel that it has been blotted out of the destiny of my
life. I look for it; I search for it, but in vain. In this life I
cannot find it; I say in this, because it is now, when all about me is
darkne
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