“Who knows,” said she, “but that the sun of peace may yet dispel the glooms of these distressful hours, and restore this throbbing bosom to its former serenity?”
In the meantime, Theodore remained in the neighbourhood of Alida until he heard the family had left and gone to the city. He then prepared himself to set out early the next day for the habitation of his parents.
He informed Raymond of his promise to write to Alida, and to transmit letters through his agency for her inspection every convenient opportunity.
After passing a weary watchful night, he arose at the first dawning of day, and proceeded on his journey with a heavy heart and painful reflections.
After he had passed through the neighbouring village, and gained the bridge, he looked over and bade the residence of Alida a mournful farewell. Fearful forebodings crossed his mind that they were separated forever; then again those more consolatory, that, perhaps, after a long delay, he and Alida might yet again meet and be happy.
Traits of glory had painted the eastern skies. The glittering day-star, having unbarred the portals of light, began to transmit its retrocessive lustre. Thin scuds flew swiftly over the moon’s decrescent form. Low, hollow winds murmured among the bushes, or brushed the limpid drops from the intermingling foliage.
The dusky shadows of night fled to the deep glens and rocky caverns of the wilderness. The American lark soared high in the air, consecrating its matin lay to morn’s approaching splendours.
The woodlands and forest tops on the high hills caught the sun’s first ray, which, widening and extending, soon gemmed the landscape with a varying brightness.
It was late in the afternoon before Theodore arrived at his father’s. He found his parents contented and happy at their present residence, which was extremely pleasant, and afforded them many accommodations.
“You have been long gone, my son,” said his father: “I scarcely knew what had become of you. Since I have become a farmer, I know little of what is going on in the world, and we were never happier in our lives. We live as independently as we could desire, and realize the blessings of health and contentment. Our only disquietude is on your account, Theodore. Your affair with Alida, I suppose, is not so favourable as you could wish. But despair not, my son; hope is the harbinger of fairer prospects; rely on Providence, which never deserts those who submissively bow to its dispensations. Place entire confidence and dependence on the Supreme Being,” said his father, “and the triumph of fortitude and resignation will be yours.” His father paused. His reasonings, however they convinced the understanding, could not heal the wounds of Theodore’s bosom. In Alida he had looked for as much happiness as earth could afford, nor could he see any prospect in life which could repair to him her loss.