Sudden as thought is the death I would die--
I would suddenly lay these shackles by,
Nor feel a single pang at parting,
Or see the tear of sorrow starting,
Nor feel the hands of love that hold me,
Nor hear the trembling words that bless me;
So would I die,
Not slain, but caught up, as it were,
To meet my Captain in the air.
So would I die
All joy without a pang to cloud it;
All bliss without a pain to spoil it,
Even so, I long to go:
These parting hours how sad and slow!
But I would like to see you once more, my precious young lady, before I go. I have cried about you often and often, and I always pray for you day and night--I did so specially that first night when you went away--that God would guard and protect you. And He did, didn't He, or you would not now be writing to old Susan so peacefully?
"You ask about Mr. Bernard Cameron. Don't think any more of him, lovey. I have heard on the best authority that he is going to marry a rich young lady at Doncaster. It is his mother's doing, no doubt; she always hankered after riches, and while he has been ill she has had him to talk to morning, noon, and night--and this is the result. So don't think any more of him, dear Miss Doris, but look out for a good, honourable gentleman, and don't marry at all unless you find him.
"Please excuse bad writing--I know my spelling is all right, for I always was a good speller--and accept my love and duty.
"Your faithful servant,
"SUSAN GAUNT."
There was no letter from Bernard; no letter, though Doris waited for it many days.
It seemed clear, therefore, that he must be going to marry the young lady at Doncaster, of whom Susan wrote; and that being so, and poverty and starvation weighing heavily in the balance against prospective wealth and every comfort that money can give, Doris yielded at length to Sinclair's persistent urging, and consented to become his wife.
CHAPTER XX.
THE WELCOME LEGACY.