At this moment the poor invalid reiterated her cries for pardon, and begged Mrs Mowbray not to leave her without pronouncing her forgiveness.
Mrs Mowbray burst into tears; and though sure that she was not even conscious of her presence, she felt herself almost unable to forsake her:—still it was in search of her daughter that she was going—nay, perhaps, it was to her daughter that she was hastening; and, as this thought occurred to her, she hurried to the door of the chamber, saying she should be ready in a moment.
But the eye of the phrensied sufferer followed her as she did so, and in a tone of unspeakable agony she begged, she entreated that she might not be left to die in solitude and sorrow, however guilty she might have been.—Then again she implored Mrs Mowbray to speak peace and pardon to her drooping soul; while, unable to withstand these solicitations, though she knew them to be the unconscious ravings of the disorder, she slowly and mournfully returned to the bed-side.
'It is late,' said Mrs Pemberton—'we ought ere now to be on the road.'
'How can I go, and leave this poor creature in such a state?—But then should we find my poor injured child at the end of the journey! Such an expectation as that!—'
'Thou must decide quickly,' replied Mrs Pemberton gently.
'Decide! Then I will go with you.—Yet still should Anna recover her senses before her death, and wish to see me, I should never forgive myself for being absent—it might soothe the anguish of her last moments to know how freely I pardon her.—No, no:—after all, if pleasure awaits me, it is only delaying it a few days; and this, this unhappy girl is on her death-bed.—You, you must go without me.'
As she said this, Mrs Pemberton pressed her hand with affectionate eagerness, and murmured out in broken accents, 'I honour thy decision, and may I return with comfort to thee!'
'Yet though I wish you to go,' cried Mrs Mowbray, 'I grieve to expose you to such fatigue and trouble in your weak state of health, and—'
'Say no more,' interrupted Mrs Pemberton, 'I am only doing my duty; and reflect on my happiness if I am allowed to restore the lost sheep to the fold again!'—So saying she set off on her journey, and arrived in London only four days after Adeline had arrived in Cumberland.