Confession; Or, The Blind Heart. A Domestic StorySimms, William Gilmore
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Confession; Or, The Blind Heart. A Domestic Story
Simms, William Gilmore
Domestic fiction
For the space of half an hour I had been an attentive but suffering
listener to this wild raving. My pangs followed every sentence from her
lips, believing, as I did, that they were reproachful of myself, and
associated with a now unrestrained expression of passion for another.
Gradually I had ceased, in the deep interest which I felt, to be
conscious that Mrs. Delaney was present. I leaned across the couch; I
bent my ear down toward the lips of the speaker, eager to drink up every
feeble sound which might help to elucidate my doubts, and subdue or
confirm my suspicions. Then, as the accumulating conviction formed
itself, embodied and sharp, like a knife, into my soul, I groaned aloud,
and my teeth were gnashed together in the bitterness of my emotion! In
that moment I caught the keen gray eyes of my mother-in-law fixed upon
me, with a jibing expression, which spoke volumes of mockery. They
seemed to say, “Ah! you have it now! The truth is forced upon you at
last! You can parry it no longer. I see the iron in your soul. I behold
and enjoy your contortions!”
Fiend language! She was something of a fiend! I started from the
bedside, and just then a flood of tears came to the relief of my wife,
and lessened the excitement of her brain. The tears relieved her. The
paroxysm passed away. She turned her eyes upon me, and closed them
involuntarily, while a deep crimson tint passed over her cheek, a blush,
which seemed to me to confirm substantially the tenor of that language
in which, while delirious, she had so constantly indulged. It did not
lessen the seeming shame and dislike which her countenance appeared at
once to embody, that a soft sweet smile was upon her lips at the same
moment, and she extended to me her hand with an air of confidence which
staggered and surprised me.
“What is the matter, dear husband? And you here, mother? Have I been
sick? Can it be?”
“Hush!” said the mother. “You have been sick ever since the night of my
marriage.”
“Ah!” she exclaimed with an air of anxiety and pain, while pressing her
hand upon her eyes, “Ah! that night!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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