Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 63, No. 388, February 1848Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 63, No. 388, February 1848
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
“‘Ay, my child, I do,’ he whispered tremulously, gently drawing her
slender form nearer to his heart. ‘Emily,’ said he, after a while,
‘go, get me that Testament which you placed before me; oh, go, dear
child!’ She still hung her head, and made no motion of going. ‘Go,
get it me; bring it to me!’
“She rose without a word, and brought it to him; and while he
silently read the verse to which she had directed his attention, she
sat beside him, her hands clasped together, and her eyes timidly
fixed on the ground.
“‘It was in love, and not presumption, my Emily, that you laid these
awful words before me!’
“‘Indeed, my papa, it was,’ said she, bursting into tears.
“He appeared about to speak to her, when words evidently failed him
suddenly. At length—‘And when that sweet soul’—he paused, ‘this
morning whispered in my ear, did she know of this that you had
done?’ Lady Emily could not speak. She bowed her head in
acquiescence, and sobbed convulsively. Her father was fearfully
agitated. ‘Wretch that I am!—I am not worthy of either of you!’ Lady
Emily flung her arms round him fondly, and kissed him. ‘I am
yielding to great weakness, my love,’ said he, after a while, with
somewhat more of composure. ‘Yet, never shall I—never can I—forget
this morning! I have long felt, and feared, that I was not made to
be loved: I have seen it written in people’s faces. Yet can I love!’
“‘I know you can! I know you do, my own dear papa! Do you not
believe that I love you? that Agnes loves you?’
“‘I do, my Emily—I do! Yet till this moment have I felt alone in
life. In this vast pile, to me how gloomy and desolate! with these
woods, so horrible, around me, I have been alone—utterly alone! And
yet were you with me—you, my only daughter—who, I suppose, dared not
tell me how much you loved me!’
“‘Oh, do not say so, papa! I knew your grief and suffering. They
were too sacred to be touched—I wept for you, but in my own
chamber!’
“‘You stand beside me as an angel, Emily!’ said the Earl fondly, ‘as
you have ever been: yet I now feel as though my eyes had not really
seen and known you!’”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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