ys I
had prudence once to withstand, and he trusts to my spirit and
discretion to--' Mary stopped short of the phrase before her eyes--to
resist the interested solicitations of necessitous nobility, and the
allurements of a beggarly coronet. 'No,' she concluded; 'he says that
you are the last person whom he could think of allowing me to accept.'
She hid her face in her hands, and her voice died away.
'Happily that is done,' said Louis, not yet disconcerted; 'but if you
go, as I own you must, it shall be with a letter of mine, explaining
all. You will plead for me--I think you will, and when he is satisfied
that we are no rebels, then the first ship that sails for Peru--Say
that will do, Mary.'
'No, Louis, I know my father.' She roused herself and sat upright,
speaking resolutely, but not daring to look at him--'I made up my mind
last night. It was weak and selfish in me to enter into this
engagement, and it must be broken off. You must be left free--not
bound for years and years.'
'Oh, Mary! Mary! this is too much. I deserved distrust by my wretched
folly and fickleness last year, but I did not know what you were to me
then--my most precious one! Can you not trust me! Do you not know how
I would wait?'
'You would wait,' said poor Mary, striving with choking tears, 'and be
sorry you had waited.'
'Are you talking madness, Mary? I should live for the moment to
compensate for all.'
'You would waste your best years, and when the time came, you would
still be young, and I grown into an old careworn woman. You would find
you had waited for what was nothing worth!'
'How can you talk so!' cried Louis, wounded, 'when you know that to
cherish and make up to you would be my dearest, fondest wish! No,
don't shake your head! You know it is not a young rose and lily beauty
that I love,--it is the honest, earnest glance in my Mary's eyes, the
rest, and trust, and peace, whenever I do but come near her. Time
can't take that away!'
'Pray,' said Mary, feebly, 'don't let us discuss it now. I know it is
right. I was determined to say it to-day, that the worst might be
over, but I can't argue, nor bear your kindness now. Please let it
wait.'
'Yes, let it wait. It is depression. You will see it in a true light
when you have recovered the shock, and don't fancy all must be given up
together. Lie down and rest; I am sure you have been awake all night.'
'I may rest now I have told you, and seen you not
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