"Was it wise, then, to tempt it thus, when, if
it yield, the result must be your own misery?"
Ellen did not affect to misunderstand his meaning. On the contrary, with a
noble frankness, she answered to what was implied rather than expressed.
"Do me not this wrong," she said, blushing, yet earnestly. "Can it be
misery? Will it not be happiness to form the tie that shall connect you to
the world? to be your guide--a humble one, it is true, but the one of your
choice--to the quiet paths from which your proud and lonely thoughts have
estranged you? Oh, I know that there will be happiness in such a lot, from
these and a thousand other sources!"
The animation with which Ellen spoke, and, at the same time, a sense of
the singular course to which her gratitude had impelled her, caused her
beauty to grow brighter and more enchanting with every word. And when, as
she concluded, she extended her hand to Fanshawe, to refuse it was like
turning from an angel, who would have guided him to heaven. But, had he
been capable of making the woman he loved a sacrifice to her own
generosity, that act would have rendered him unworthy of her. Yet the
struggle was a severe one ere he could reply.
"Yon have spoken generously and nobly, Ellen," he said.
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