Look up, my Edith, and bless the little being that God has given to call you back to life and happiness.'
'Happiness!' murmured Edith. 'That word has no meaning for me! Duty is my only tie to life.'
But she did look up; and as her eyes were long end fondly fixed on the unconscious features of the child, her own sweet look of gentleness rose into them again, and she raised her feeble arms, as if to take the infant.
'And he will never see her,' she whispered. 'He will never look on his child in this world.'
Elliot thought that hope might now be given without danger; and he took her wasted hand in his, and said—
'Edith, you have had much sorrow, and it has nearly brought you down to the grave. But can you bear to feel the agitation of hope? Can you listen calmly while I tell you that some tidings of your husband have reached us, and that he was certainly alive after the time when you believed him dead?'
He paused, and looked anxiously to see the effect of this sentence; and he was almost awed by the expression of Edith's countenance. It was not agitation—it was not joy—it was not trembling uncertainty. But it was a look of concentrated mental power and endurance, and of speechless inquiry, that seemed to say, 'Now utter my sentence of life or death, and do it quickly!'
Dame Elliot could not bear it. Bursting into tears of deep emotion, she beat down and imprinted a kiss on Edith's cold brow, while she exclaimed, in broken accents—
'Yes! it is true, dearest Edith. You may live—and live, we hope, for happiness as great as has ever been your portion.'
'O, my God!' cried Edith-'this is too much!—too much of joy for one so weak and faithless. But tell me, my friends—tell me all. I can bear it now.'