“He scarcely writes to me once a month, and then his letters are short and cold as icicles, and full of court gossip and fashion items, for which he knows I do not care a straw. Yesterday I received one,—the first I have had for three weeks,—and he requests me to defer our marriage at least six months longer, as he cannot possibly come over in May, the time appointed when he was here.”
She hid her face on her guardian’s shoulder, and sobbed.
An expression of painful surprise and stern displeasure 395 clouded Dr. Grey’s countenance, as he smoothed the hair away from the girl’s throbbing temples.
“Calm yourself, Muriel. If Gerard has forfeited your confidence, he is unworthy of your tears. Do you apprehend that his indifference is merely the result of separation, or have you any cause to attribute it to interest in some other person?”
“That is a question I cannot answer.”
“Cannot, or will not?”
“I know nothing positively; but I fear something, which perhaps I ought not to mention.”
“Throw aside all hesitancy, and talk freely to me. If Granville is either fickle or dishonorable, you should rejoice that the discovery has been made in time to save you from life-long wretchedness.”
“If we were only married, I am sure I could win him back to me.”
“That is a fatal fallacy, that has wrecked the happiness of many women. If a lover grows indifferent, as a husband he will be cold, unkind, unendurable. If as a devoted fiancée you can not retain and strengthen his affection,—as a wife you would weary and repel him. Have you answered the last letter?”