“I give you to understand, sir,” said Clara reddening with anger, “my father will not compel me to marry any one against my will. You have insulted me. Leave me, and never speak to me again.”
“O, Clara, Clara,” cried Ernest, wringing his hands in anguish, “do not drive me from you in this cruel way. I beg your pardon. I scarcely knew what I was saying. Forgive me, if I said anything offensive.”
“I’ll forgive you, if you will leave me, and promise never again to call, except as a friend.”
Ernest fixed his eyes upon her face, and gazed so strangely that she shrank, and hung her head. He was trembling like the wind-shaken aspen. He was standing on the verge of an abyss of darkness, and felt the ground giving way under his feet. He felt as if the foundations of his being were breaking up, and drifting off, leaving him to sink down into the horrid blackness. How could he cry to God to sustain him in this supreme hour of distress! The chilling waves were rolling over him: a great suffocating lump seemed to be forming in his heart. His soul reeled. He looked up to the ceiling of the room, and seemed to be trying to see through it, and beyond it. His lips worked and twitched convulsively. O, it is pitiable to see a strong man suddenly hurled from his normal tranquillity down to the dust of abject despair, at the feet of an unworthy woman!
Clara gazed at him with feelings of mingled compassion and alarm. She was still more astonished, when he suddenly rose to his feet, and, without appearing to see her, walked out of the parlor. She noticed that his face was bloodless, and his lips were firmly compressed as though he were holding back some terrible thought which was struggling to find egress. In a few moments his rapid footsteps had died away.
“What a strange man!” she said. “I wonder what he is going to do? I didn’t think he would take it so hard as that. But marriage would have made us both miserable.”
Thus there was a sudden divergence of the path of destiny. There is nothing more common in the affairs of this life than these unexpected transitions from one condition to another. We may carefully spread the warp on the loom, but the shuttle which holds the woof, is projected by an unseen hand. Our well-settled purposes, our deep-laid schemes, are thwarted, and scattered to the winds. We stand astounded and appalled in the wreck of our hopes and plans, not knowing what to do, when presently we turn, and behold a new path opened, and uncontrollable circumstances force us to pursue it.
