The woman sprang up, exulting. Her hands were clasped, her face was radiant. It seemed impossible that unhappiness should ever visit her again.
"Poor woman! Poor, unhappy woman!"
Hope took her hand in his, and drew her down to his side. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind. For the moment, her joy seemed complete.
"I cannot believe it! Say again, 'Rachael, I love you.'"
"Have I not said that it is your curse and mine?"
"Oh, Norton! how cruel, with that sweet word sinking into my heart, after pining and waiting for it so long! Do not withhold it from me, or think of it as a curse."
"Hush, Rachael! You are only exulting over Dead Sea fruit. It is all ashes, ashes. Words that, up to this time, I had forbidden to my lips, have been said, because of a terrible danger that threatens us. Rachael, did you know of the letter Hepworth sent me?"
Rachael was a brave woman, even in her faults, and would not deny anything.
"Yes, he wrote the letter here," she said.
"And you sanctioned his pursuit of my daughter?"