“Mother, we lived honorably and well before my uncle’s death; the same means are still left to us.”
“But the title, the estates, I cannot give them up. Will you make no sacrifice to save me from this degradation?”
“Anything, mother, that an honorable man should; but to barter myself, no.”
I saw that Lady Catherine was becoming angry, and spoke,
“Madam, when I resign the inheritance, your son knows the terms. Take counsel—take time for thought. To-morrow, at this hour, I will come again, alone as now; that will be our last interview.”
My words struck home. Lady Catherine turned white as death, and by the glitter in her eyes I saw a storm of rage mustering; I did not remain to witness it. Irving held open the door for me. Our eyes met as I passed out, and his seemed full of reproachful sorrow. Why could I not hate that man?—why not hurl back scorn for treachery?
Cora was asleep when I entered the little room which we occupied together. It was the sweetest slumber I ever witnessed—so calm, so full of infinite quietude. Worn out by the harassing sorrows of her situation, she had, up to the evening previous, been wakeful night and day, but the few words I had so rashly uttered fell like dew upon her eyelids, and all night long she had slept by my side tranquil as a bird in its nest; in her hopeful serenity she had dropped away in dreams. Thus I found her with a smile upon her lips, and a soft bloom warming the cheeks that twelve hours before had been so pale.
My own words had done all this, and they were all a deception. I had deceived myself, and worse, worse a thousand times, had misled her also. How could I tell her this?—how break up the exquisite calm of that repose with my evil tidings, for evil I now felt them to be?
The sunlight fell through a half-closed shutter, kindling up the golden tresses of her hair, as they fell over the arm folded under her cheek, and lay in masses on the crimson cushion of the sofa. I sat down by her, watching those sun gleams as they rose brighter and brighter toward her forehead. They fell at last upon her eyelids, which began to quiver; the dark brown lashes separated, and with a sleepy murmur the girl awoke.
“Oh, you have come,” she said, flinging her arms around my neck; “dear, dear Zana, I have been dreaming.”