Margaret raised herself; took her brother’s arm, and went out into the air. No one was near.
“Now leave me, brother. I must be alone. I will walk here, and think what I must do. But how can I know, when all is made such a mystery? Oh, brother, tell me what I ought to do!”
“Calm yourself now. Command yourself; for this day. You, innocent as you are, may well do so. If I had such a conscience as yours—if I were only in your place, Margaret—if I had nothing to bear but wrongs, I would thank Heaven as Heaven was never yet thanked.”
“You, Edward!”
“If the universe heaped injuries upon me, they should not crush me. If I had a self-respect like yours, I would lift my head to the stars.”
“You, Edward!”
“Margaret, wretched as you are, your misery is nothing to mine. Have pity upon me, and command yourself. For my sake and your sister’s, look and act like yourself, and hope peacefully, trust steadily, that all will yet be right.”
“It cannot be that you have wronged me, brother. You sent him from me, I know; and that was unkind: but you could never really wrong any one.”
“I never meant it. I honour you, and would protect you—I will protect you as a brother should. Only do not say again that you are forsaken. It would break our hearts to hear you say that again.”
“I will not. And I will try to be for to-day as if nothing had happened: but I promise no more than to endeavour—I am so bewildered!”