If the signs of sorrow soon reappear, they are no longer to be traced to jealousy. Those sweet ravings are well remembered, and can now be trusted as truth. They are confirmed by the confession of restored reason—by the avowal of a man who may be standing on the stoup of death, and can have no earthly motive for a deception such as that!
Chapter Ninety.
A Court Quickly Cleared.
If the last speech has given satisfaction to Louise Poindexter, there are few who share it with her. Upon most of the spectators it has produced an impression of a totally different character.
It is one of the saddest traits of our ignoble nature; to feel pain in contemplating a love we cannot share—more especially when exhibited in the shape of a grand absorbing passion.
The thing is not so difficult of explanation. We know that he, or she, thus sweetly possessed, can feel no interest in ourselves.
It is but the old story of self-esteem, stung by the thought of indifference.
Even some of the spectators unaffected by the charms of the beautiful Creole, cannot restrain themselves from a certain feeling of envy; while others more deeply interested feel chagrined to the heart’s core, by what they are pleased to designate an impudent avowal!