"Then why did you tell me that you were free till the yoke locked you to
him? Why did you desire to love? Why did you bid me teach you? Why did
you consent to my lips, my arms? Why did you awake me?"
"God knows," she said, faintly.
"Is that your defence?" I asked. "Have you no defence?"
"None.... I had never loved.... I found you kind and I had known no man
like you.... Every moment with you entranced me till, ... I don't know
why, ... that sweet madness came upon ... us ... which can never come
again--which must never come.... Forgive me. I did not understand. Love
was a word to me."
"Dorothy, Dorothy, what have I done!" I stammered.
"Not you, but I, ... and now it is plain to me why, unwedded, I stand
yoked together with my honor, and you stand apart, fettered to yours....
We have shaken our chains in play, the links still hold firm and bright;
but if we break them, then, as they snap, our honor dies forever. For
what I have done in idle ignorance forgive me, and leave me to my
penance, ... which must last for all my life, cousin.... And you will
forget.... Hush! dearest lad, and let me speak. Well, then I will say
that I pray you may forget! Well, then I will not say that to grieve
you.... I wish you to remember--yet not know the pain that I--"
"Dorothy, Dorothy, do you still love me?"
"Oh, I do love you!.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182