Twice I read over my aunt's letter, and then I opened Edward's. He had not reached Hyeres before my uncle's death: and had met Mrs. Middleton on her way back to England: he was travelling home with her, and meant to precede her by a few days to London, which he intended to reach by the twenty-third of the month. He said she was powerfully and deeply affected by the loss she had sustained; but that she was calm and composed, and only intensely anxious to be with me again. He said he had received my letter, and concluded his with an earnest request that I would take care of my health. I might then expect him in two days;--I should see him again whom my soul worshipped,--him whom I loved with a strength of passion and a fervour of devotion which absorbed every feeling of my heart;--and yet no faithless wife, no guilty woman, ever looked to the return, or anticipated the presence, of the husband she had betrayed, with more nervous terror, or more deep depression, than I did Edward's. His letter was in my hand, and I was gazing intently upon it, when the door opened, and Henry came in. The blood forsook my cheek, and I gasped for breath. Mr. Middleton's death--his sister's grief--his pale and haggard expression of countenance--a vague hope that he was come, at last, to set me free forever--kept me silent and subdued. He sat down opposite to me, and said, "I have forced my way in, and brought you this letter." Glancing at the table, he added, "You have received the last account, I see. Has my sister written to you?" I could not speak, but I took her fetter and put it into his hands. He read it, and then laid it down with a deep sigh. "He used me hardly, and hated the sight of me; but I respected him, and would fain have seen his life prolonged for Mary's sake." There was a long pause after this; we were afraid of each other, and of what each might say next. It was now three weeks since we had met; an eternal separation was at hand; it rested with Henry to decide how we should part. Would he break the chain with which he had bound me? or would he leave upon me for ever the mark of my abhorred slavery? I stood before him, and fixed my eyes upon him. "Henry, the moment is come when we must part." "Part!" he exclaimed. "Do you think I am come to part with you? Do you imagine that I will leave you and Edward--whom I now hate as much as I once loved him--to exult over my despair, and to banish me from your house after mine has been tamed into a hell--" "What words do you dare to utter? Do not blaspheme. Your house is sanctified by the presence of an angel."