But I wished that you should feel me wholly lost to Alfred -
hopeless to him - dead. Do you understand me, love?'
Her sister looked into her face, attentively. She seemed in doubt.
'I saw Mr. Warden, and confided in his honour; charged him with my
secret, on the eve of his and my departure. He kept it. Do you
understand me, dear?'
Grace looked confusedly upon her. She scarcely seemed to hear.
'My love, my sister!' said Marion, 'recall your thoughts a moment;
listen to me. Do not look so strangely on me. There are
countries, dearest, where those who would abjure a misplaced
passion, or would strive, against some cherished feeling of their
hearts and conquer it, retire into a hopeless solitude, and close
the world against themselves and worldly loves and hopes for ever.
When women do so, they assume that name which is so dear to you and
me, and call each other Sisters. But, there may be sisters, Grace,
who, in the broad world out of doors, and underneath its free sky,
and in its crowded places, and among its busy life, and trying to
assist and cheer it and to do some good, - learn the same lesson;
and who, with hearts still fresh and young, and open to all
happiness and means of happiness, can say the battle is long past,
the victory long won. And such a one am I! You understand me
now?'
Still she looked fixedly upon her, and made no reply.
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