That more than heaven pursue.’
“There is no clap-trap there, India; it is a sublime rule! Lay it to heart!”
He had arisen, and was about to leave the room, but seeing her arms crossed upon the table, and her head fallen upon them in an attitude of the most desolate grief, he turned back, and laying his hand kindly upon the bowed head, he said:
“Dear India, I am writing to Rosalie; shall I tell her to come down and remain with you for a few weeks?”
“No, no! not now! I could not bear her presence here; it would bring back the memory of happier days, in too dreadful contrast with these. Not now! It is very dark, life is very dark to me, and I am very weak and miserable!”
“Dearest India! I wish you would let her come to you—would let her lead you to the only true source of light, and strength, and joy!”
“I cannot! I can die!”
“She would teach you to live; she would teach her truth, that ‘out of the heart are the issues of life’”—
“And of death!” said India, in a hollow voice.
Then he could only press her hand, and leave her.