"I feared it," said his brother, "but perhaps I may induce her to think differently. Were I to take advantage of her unsophisticated feelings, and want of knowledge of the world, I should indeed be a villain."
Acmé was sent for, and came weeping in--took Georg's hand--and gazed earnestly in his face as he addressed her.
"You must change your mind, dearest," said he. And he told her of the world's opinion--the contumely she might have to endure--the slights to which she would be subjected. Still she heeded not.
"Why mention these things?" said she. "Who would insult me, were you near? or if they did, should I regard them while you were kind?"
And her lover's words took a loftier tone; and he spoke of religion, and of the duties it imposes; of the feelings of his countrywomen; and the all-seeing eye of their God. Still the fond girl wept bitterly, but spoke not.
"My own Acmé! consider my health too, dearest! Were you now to consent, I might never again be ill. It would be cruelty to me to refuse. Say you consent for my sake, sweet!"
"For your sake, then!" said Acme, as she twined her snowy arms round his neck, "for your sake, Giorgio, I do so! But oh! when I am yours for ever by that tie; when--if this be possible--our present raptures are less fervent--our mutual affections less devoted--do not, dearest George--do not, I implore you--treat me with coldness. It would break my heart, indeed it would."
They were married according to the rites of both the Protestant and Catholic Church. Few were present. George had been lifted to the sofa, and sat up during the ceremony; and although his features were pale and emaciated, they brightened with internal satisfaction, as he heard those words pronounced, which made his love a legitimate one. Acmé was silent and thoughtful; and tears quenched the fire of her usually sparkling eye. George Delmé's recovery from this date became more rapid.
He was able to resume his wonted exercise--his step faltered less--his eye became clearer. His convalescence was so decided, that the surgeon recommended his at once travelling, and for the present relinquishing the army.
"Perhaps the excessive heat may not be beneficial. I would, if possible, get him to Switzerland for the summer months. I will enquire what outward-bound vessels there are. If there is one for Leghorn, so much the better. But the sooner he tries change of scene, the more advantageous it is likely to be; and after all, the climate is but a secondary consideration."