"He is not here. He left us when we reached Madrid, for the purpose of entering France through the Basque countries; but this month the General received another letter from him—he is staying in Italy. The General, it seems, had written that he had obtained my consent to become his wife, and the answer is—'Whatever will conduce to your happiness, and that of the lady, must be acceptable to me.'
"Nothing more—not even an expression of astonishment! Yes, it is better thus! I will marry General Harrington—he is the only being on earth who cares for me—the only one who would seek to render me happy. In a few years he will be an old man, and the trust and friendship I now feel, will be sufficient to his contentment. This firm and trusting friendship I shall always be willing to give. If I do not accept him, where am I to turn for a protector—of what avail is my great wealth, since it cannot win for me a home in any human heart?
"I marvel at my own calmness—pray Heaven that when too late, I do not find that it has been only the apathy of despair. I will be calm—my hushed and trembling heart shall at least be silent—by-and-by it will, perhaps, be numbed into insensibility. I can expect nothing more; for I know that the uprooted flowers of a love like mine can have no second-blossom, the sweet fountain of affection once wasted, its waters may never flow again.
"I will write no more in my journal for a season—why should I make this record of my weary life—this plaint of my troubled soul?
"I have suffered the one terrible grief of a lifetime; of what avail to inscribe upon these pages a memento of a lasting wretchedness!"
CHAPTER LVI.
TOO LATE, TOO LATE.
"A year to-day since I became a wife, a year into which has been crowded an eternity of sorrow and regret; can I never learn to endure in silence! Did my husband mean to deceive me when he told me that James Harrington was plighted to another. I spoke of it to-day trembling as the words left my mouth. My husband laughed pleasantly, and answered 'oh, child, that was a love ruse. I had a vague fancy that the young fellow might be in my way, and so disposed of him poetically. There was nothing in it. The fellow has not spirit enough to win a beautiful woman.'
"Great Heaven! did he know how faint and cold those words left me—how I almost loathed him for this awful fraud. God help me—God help me to forgive him! It seems now as if I never could. How this portion of my life has passed I hardly know; seldom have I made a record of its secrets. Much of the time has been spent in the gay world, for my husband—how strangely the word husband sounds even now—seems to grow every day fonder of its pleasures. The months thus spent have been most wearisome to me; I like better the calm retreat where I have spent my summers, with only a few servants to disturb the quiet of the house, and faithful Ben Benson, who has never left us, to gratify, as if by magic, every wish of his capricious mistress. But there is to be a change—henceforth we are to reside wholly at the North, and he is coming home to live with us.
"A new blessing has been granted to me! Forgive me my God, that I have dared thus to repine and forget that Thy protecting care was over me! I am a mother! My baby sleeps in his cradle by my side, and one glance at his face makes me forget all the misery I have endured. James returned during my illness. My heart was too full of its new bliss for any other feeling. With my child folded over my heart, I could meet him without one of its pulses being stirred—there is a sacredness in the duties God has now given me, which I should not have dared profane by one human regret.