Mother. Louise, my good girl, what is amiss with you? I have never seen you thus before. You must tell me what is at your heart—you must!
Louise. I cannot! I ought not!
Mother. You can! you ought! Will you make me, will you make all of us wretched by going on in this way? Ah, Louise, do not let false shame, or false tenderness mislead you. Tell me, do you break any oath, or violate any sacred duty, by confessing what it is which depresses you?
Louise. No oath; no sacred duty—and yet——yet——
Mother. Then speak, in heaven's name, my child! Unquestionably some unfounded suspicion is the cause of your present state. What do the words mean with which you left us this evening? You weep! Louise, I pray, I beseech of you, if you love me, conceal nothing from me! Who is it that you love, yet can no more have faith in—no longer highly esteem? Answer me—is it your mother?
Louise. My mother! my mother! Ah, while you look on me thus I feel a pain, and yet a confidence! Ah, my God! all may be an error—a miserable slander, and I——Well then, it shall out—that secret which has gnawed my heart, and which I conceived it my duty to conceal! But forgive me, my mother, if I grieve you; forgive me if my words disturb your peace; forgive me, if in my weakness, if in my doubt I have done you injustice, and remove the grief which has poisoned my life! Ah, do you see, mother, it was mine, it was my sisters' happiness, to consider you so spotless—so angelically pure! It was my pride that you were so, and that you were my mother! And now——
Mother. And now, Louise?
Louise. And now it has been whispered to me——Oh, I cannot speak the words!
Mother. Speak them—I demand it! I desire it from you! We both stand before the Judgment-seat of God!
Louise. I have been led to believe that even my mother was not blameless—that she——