land again, for home as he still calls it,
forgetting that we have no longer a home there. He fancies warm-hearted
friends and neighbors, an affectionate people, attached to the very
traditions of his name; but it is now wiser to feed this delusion than
destroy it, by telling him that few, scarcely one, of his old companions
still live, that other influences, other fortunes, other names, have
replaced ours; we should go back there as strangers, and without even
the stranger's claim to kind acceptance. Then, we had thought of the new
world beyond seas; but these are the lauds of the young, the ardent, and
the enterprising, high in hope and resolute of heart; and so, at last,
we deemed it wisest to seek out some quiet spot, in some quiet country,
where our poverty would, at least, present nothing remarkable, and
there to live for each other; and we are happy, so happy that, save the
passing dread that this delicious calm of life may not be lasting, we
have few sorrows.'
"Again and again I tried to persuade her to recall her decision, but
in vain. Once only did she show any sign of hesitation. It was when I
charged her with pride as the reason of refusal. Then suddenly her
eyes filled up, and her lip trembled, and such a change came over her
features that I grew shocked at my own words.
"'Pride!' cried she. 'If you mean that inordinate self-esteem that
prefers isolation to sympathy, that rejects an obligation from
mere haughtiness, I know not the feeling. Our pride is not in our
self-sufficiency, for every step in life teaches us how much we owe to
others; but in this, that low in lot, and humble in means, we have kept,
and hope still to keep, the motives and principles that guided us in
happier fortunes. Yes, you may call us proud, for we are so, proud that
our poverty has not made us mean; proud that in a strange land we have
inspired sentiments of kindness, and even of affection; proud that,
without any of the gifts or graces which attract, we have drawn towards
us this instance of noble generosity of which you are now the messenger.
I am not ashamed to own pride in all these.'
"To press her further was useless; and only asking, that if by any
future change of circumstances she might be induced to alter her
resolve, she would still consider the proposition as open to her
acceptance, I took my leave."
"This is most provoking," exclaimed Onslow.
"Provoking!" cried Grounsell; "you call it provoking! That where yo
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