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Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"


How perfectly I could comprehend, for the first time since this
revelation, what Wentworth must have suffered beneath his burden of
unrelieved doubt and conjecture! I could see how, day by day, as no
answer came to change the current of his thoughts, conviction slowly
settled down like a cloud upon his heart, his reason; and what stern
confirmation of all he dreaded most, my silence must have seemed to him!
All this I saw in my mental survey with pity, with concern, with wild
desire to fly to him, and whisper truth and consolation in his arms; for
I loved this man as it is given to passionate, earnest natures to love
but once, be it early or late; loved him as Eve loved Adam, when the
whole inhabited earth was given to those two alone.
"You seem in very good spirits to-day, Miss Monfort," said Mrs. Clayton,
with unusual asperity on one occasion, when, holding Ernie in my arms, I
lavished endearments upon him; "your king, indeed! your angel! I really
believe you admire as well as love that hideous little elf."
"Of course I do, Mrs. Clayton; all things I love are beautiful to me;"
and I remembered how Bertie's plain face had grown into touching
loveliness in my sight from the affection I bore her.
"And do you really love this child?"
"Most certainly, and very tenderly too; is he not my sweetest
consolation in this dreary life?"
"What if they remove him?"
"Ah! what, indeed!" and, relaxing my grasp, I clasped my hands together
patiently; that thought had occurred to me before.


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