“Will you go with me?” I asked, too much excited to listen patiently to her entreaties.
“Rowland, do not ask me! May heaven help me; I cannot go!”
“Then, farewell!” I cried, “farewell for ever!” and as I uttered the parting speech, I tore myself from her embrace, and hurried half frantic out of the room.
Volume Three—Chapter Twenty One.
My Sister’s Sweetheart.
On leaving the house, my soul was stirred by conflicting emotions. I was wild with disappointment, sorrow and indignation.
It was wrong to part with my poor sister in such fashion; and my conscience told me so, before I had proceeded two hundred yards along the street. I should at least have given her some money, to relieve her from the extreme necessity which she was evidently in.
A moment’s reflection, as I stopped in the street, told me it was my duty to do this, if nothing more.