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Tales And Novels, Vol. 8 by Maria Edgeworth
Book, page 361 / 485


watch and purse after him, which he had left on his dressing-table. How
melancholy his room looked to me! His clothes just as he had left them--a
rose which Lady Olivia gave him yesterday was in water on his table. My
letter was not there; so he has it, probably unread. He will read it some
time or other, perhaps--and some time or other, perhaps, when I am dead and
gone, he will believe I loved him. Could he have known what I felt at the
moment when he turned from me, he would have pitied me; for his nature, his
character, cannot be quite altered in a few months, though he has ceased
to love Leonora. From the window of his own room I watched for the last
glimpse of him--heard him call to the postilions, and bid them "drive
fast--faster." This was the last sound I heard of his voice. When shall I
hear that voice again? I think that I shall certainly hear from him the day
after to-morrow--and I wish to-day and to-morrow were gone.

I am afraid that you will think me very weak; but, my dear mother, I have
no motive for fortitude now; and perhaps it might have been better for me,
if I had not exerted so much. I begin to fear that all my fortitude is
mistaken for indifference. Something Mr. L---- said the other day, about
sensibility and sacrifices, gave me this idea. Sensibility!--It has been
my hard task for some months past to repress mine, that it might not give
pain or disgust. I have done all that my reason and my dearest mother
counselled; surely I cannot have done wrong. How apt we are to mistake the
opinion or the taste of the man we love for the rule of right! Sacrifices!
What sacrifices can I make?--All that I have, is it not his?--My whole
heart, is it not his? Myself, all that I am, all that I _can_ be? Have I
not lived with him of late, without recalling to his mind the idea that
I suffer by his neglect? Have I not left his heart at liberty, and can
I make a greater sacrifice? I really do not understand what he means by
sacrifices. A woman who loves her husband is part of him; whatever she does
for him is for herself. I wish he would explain to me what he can mean by
sacrifices--but when will he ever again explain his thoughts and feelings
to me?

My dearest mother, it has been a relief to my mind to write all this to
you; if there is no sense in it, you will forgive and encourage me by your
affection and strength of mind, which, in all situations, have such power
to soothe and support your daughter.

The prince ----, who spent a fortnight here, paid me particular attention.


 
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