A rosy blush, succeeded by a nod of the head, was the answer.
“I am sorry I was not consulted, before all this happened; though I have managed my own matters so ill, as to have very few claims to your confidence. You scarce know what you undertake, my child.”
“I undertake to become Jack Wilmeter’s wife,” answered the betrothed, in a very low but a very firm voice; “and I hope I shall make him a good one. Most of all, do I pray to be obedient and submissive.”
“To no man that breathes, Anna!—no, to no man breathing! It is their business to submit to us; not we to them!”
“This is not my reading of the great rule of woman’s conduct. In my view of our duties, it is the part of woman to be affectionate, mild, patient and sympathizing,—if necessary, forgiving. I firmly believe that, in the end, such a woman cannot fail to be as happy as is permitted to us to be, here on earth.”
“Forgiving!” repeated Mildred, her eyes flashing; “yes, that[that] is a word often used, yet how few truly practise its teachings.[teachings.] Why should I forgive any one that has wronged me? Our nature tells us to resent, to punish, if necessary, as you say—to revenge.”
A slight shudder passed through the frame of Anna, and she unconsciously moved farther from her companion, though their aims still continued locked.
“There must be a great difference between France and America, if revenge is ever taught to a woman, as a part of her duty,” returned the younger female, now speaking with an earnestness she had not before betrayed; “here, we are told that Christianity forbids the very thought of it, and that to forgive is among the very first of our duties. My great instructor in such things, has told me that one of the surest evidences of a hopeful state of the feelings, is the banishment of every thing like resentment, and a desire to be at peace with all around us—to have a perception that we love the race as beings of our own wants and hopes.”
“Is this the sort of love, then, with which you give your hand to young Wilmeter?”
Scarlet is not brighter than was the colour that now glowed in the cheeks of Anna, stole into her temples, and even diffused itself over her neck and chest. To herself it seemed as if her very hands blushed. Then the power of innocence came to sustain her, and she became calm and steady.