Averting his eyes from the mournful and plaintive countenance which was still bending over him, he groaned aloud in very bitterness:—and then a deep silence ensued in the chamber.
Several minutes elapsed, during which the burning tears streamed down the lady’s face: but she subdued the sobs that almost choked her—for she would not for worlds permit any evidence of her own deep grief to disturb the meditations of the enfeebled nobleman. On his side, he was absorbed in profound thought,—the incidents of the past rapidly becoming more definite and vivid in his memory, until there were few things left in uncertainty or doubt—and nothing in oblivion.
Slowly turning towards the lady, the Marquis saw that she was overwhelmed with sorrow—although she hastily wiped away her tears;—and moved—deeply moved by this spectacle, as well as influenced by a host of tender recollections, the old man extended his hand towards her, murmuring, “My wife! is it indeed she who is now watching by my side?”
“O heaven! he recollects me—he will forgive me!” she exclaimed, in a tone of the liveliest joy; and carrying her husband’s emaciated hand to her lips, she covered it with kisses.
“Sophia,” said the old man, in a low voice and speaking with difficulty, “we meet after a long—long separation. But let us forget the past——”
“Is it possible that you can forget it?” asked Mrs. Sefton—or rather the Marchioness of Delmour; and bending her burning face over his hand which she still retained in both her own, she added in a tone so low that it seemed as if she feared even to hear her own words, “You have so much to pardon! But I never viewed my conduct in this light until I came and beheld you stretched upon the bed of—of——”
“Of death,” said the Marquis, his pale countenance becoming, if possible, more ghastly pallid still.
“No—no,” exclaimed the Marchioness, with the excitement of voice and the gesture of despair; “you must not talk nor think thus despondingly! But tell me, my husband—tell me—oh! say, can you forgive me for the past?”
“We have much to forgive on either side, Sophia,” responded the Marquis: “and as I was the first cause of dissension between us—as I indeed was the author of all your unhappiness, by forcing you into a marriage which you abhorred—’tis for me to demand pardon first. Tell me, then, Sophia—tell me that you can pardon me for all the misery I have been the wretched means of heaping upon your head?”
“Oh! yes—yes!” exclaimed the lady, the tears again pouring in torrents down her cheeks: “would to heaven that I could prove to you how deeply sensible I am of this kindness which you now manifest towards me!”