"Suffered, indeed, dear Lucy," he said; "I had not known that the heart of man could endure so much, without breaking."
"But you are innocent, Charles," she said, "oh, yes, I am sure you are innocent. Yet tell me so. Oh, yes, tell me so, and set my heart quite at rest!"
"Have you doubted it, Lucy?" exclaimed Charles, in a reproachful tone; "do you doubt it, Lucy?"
She lifted her deep blue eyes to his face, and gazed at him tenderly, confidingly, but thoughtfully; while he bent down his eyes upon her with a look of deep and earnest affection, yet characterized by the strong emotions of the moment, and by some degree of reproachful sadness. But all was clear and noble, and open in that countenance, and Lucy, as she gazed, could not entertain a shadow of a doubt. Feeling that she had in some sense wronged him, though but slightly, she cast her arms around him, and again leaning her fair face upon his bosom, she said,
"No, Charles--no, no, no! I do no doubt you. I know, I feel, that you are innocent."
"As innocent as you are, Lucy," replied Charles Tyrrell. "As I have hope in heaven, Lucy--as I love you truly and well--as I look for the continuance of your love--and as I place my whole hopes in this life on your affection--I never saw my unfortunate father from the moment that I left him in the library, till the moment I saw him lying dead in the same room."
"I believe you, Charles, from my heart," replied Lucy; "indeed, I have never really doubted you. I have, indeed, asked my heart whether it was possible; and in so doing I have thought of all your impetuosity, and your fieriness, Charles. But I have remembered your noble nature, and the restraint I have often seen you put upon yourself; and the reply has still been, no, it is impossible."
"Hark," said Charles Tyrrell. "There are carriage-wheels. That must be your mother, Lucy, returned."
"Oh, mind not that," said Lucy, "mind not that. I know you ought to go, and yet, I cannot part with you so soon. It is terrible, terrible, Charles, to see you leave me under such circumstances, and after such a brief moment as this. It is very, very terrible, Charles, and who knows when or how I shall see you again."
"Would to God, you could go with me," cried Charles Tyrrell, pressing her to his heart. "Oh, Lucy! Lucy! what a fancy has come up before my eyes!"