"Not so, my dear father, I saw and loved him before your introduction—loved him at first sight! The declaration is strange, but it is true. I know not how it was, but yet I know so it is, and I honestly confess my weakness."
"And for this thy love at first sight!—this childish offspring of an enthusiast's brain!—you seem fully resolved to relinquish the noblest connexion in Belgium, of which princesses might be proud—a warrior duke, descended from a long ennobled line of ancestry, his suit denied, and the preference given to a stranger! Monstrous!—not to be endured. Oh, such a damning fact ought not to have been disclosed to a father's ear!"
"Oh, dear Sir, say not so. Not to be disclosed to a father's ear!—Oh, then, pray Sir, to whom should I disclose it, if not to the ear of my parent? Ought I not hope to find in his bosom a friend, a counsellor, adviser, and protector; in a word, a father! You saw, Sir—you must have seen, that I was beloved by the Bruce; and I had not the art to disguise that I met, that I returned his love. Time was, when a child, as I well remember, when you oft carried me on your shoulder, and took me upon your lap: 'My Adelaide,' you then were wont to say, 'you should ever consider your parents as your best friends, the most interested in your welfare beyond all the world besides. Oh, never look upon them as tyrants or oppressors; the tie of affection between a child and its parents, from continued affection, is stronger even than the filial bonds of nature herself. In doubt or distress, therefore, ever look up to and consult your mother and me as your natural protectors and advisers, in weal or in woe, as your sincerest friends, rest you convinced, that you have upon earth; and be sure to take no decided step whatever without consulting us, as you shall ever most cordially receive, and candidly too, the best advice of your mother and me, and always be assured of the warmth of the affection of both your parents.' Now, my dear father, have I forgotten this advice? say rather intently I have treasured up all these sayings in my heart, freshly stamped and impressed, as if it were only yesterday that you had pronounced them. Rest assured, dearest Sir, of this, that I shall never do a clandestine act; and when thus I solemnly pledge myself to my parents never to marry without their consent, oh, surely they will not—they could not be so severe or so unjust as to require me to submit without my own!—more especially when my heart is wholly disinclined—nay, and more, dislikes, and wholly refuses assent. Say, should I hold forth my hand, dear and honoured father, when my heart rejects, if not hates! Oh, say would it not be most base and dishonourable; nay, more—it would be—(horrible to reflect on!) it would be lying and prevaricating at the altar of God; and there solemnly, but falsely, declaring that I would 'love, honour, and obey' a man, however high his rank and great his worth, still that I never loved, nor ever can love! No, no—a lie pronounced at the altar of heaven!—I cannot do it!"
"Oh, my dearest Adelaide, indeed thou art my child—flesh of my flesh, and blood of my blood. Believe me then, and despond not, my dearest daughter, no aspiration to add to your rank or to increase your fortune against your consent, shall ever again influence your mother or me. Come then, my beloved, to thy father's arms, and never again shall our opinions clash in collision. I glory in the name of father, when I count that Adelaide is mine own dearest daughter; yea my only one! think then no more, my dearest child, of what has gone past. I promise you solemnly that you shall never again be teased or solicited upon this topic, so think of what has passed but as the idle fantasy of a frightful dream!"
This eventful day appeared to the much-dejected Adelaide as the longest and most wearisome she had witnessed in the annals of her life. Although still she deeply suffered, and succumbed beneath the ban of exile from her native land and home, Adelaide likewise had deeply felt her pride wounded to the very core at the outlawry and attainder of her parents. More perplexing still yet seemed those moments of trial which now had arrived, when Adelaide had to encounter and oppose the opinions of a parent, in which, although completely triumphant, yet still her success gave her pain, but not joy. And although the day ended, as happily it did, in reconciliation, yet it had commenced in the not-to-be-mistaken tone of high and angry displeasure.
Quite overcome, from thus differing so widely in opinion from those she deeply regarded, oppressed with a quick and fevered pulse, and a frame sadly exhausted, Adelaide gladly retired to repose, mentally exclaiming, as she departed to her chamber,
————"Husband! wife!
There is some holy mystery in those names,
That sure the unmarried cannot understand."