He placed a ring upon her finger. “It is a marriage bond,” he said; “and if there be a God, let him now bear witness to my vows:—I here, uncompelled by menace, unsolicited by entreaty, do bind myself through life to you. No other, in word or thought, shall ever hold influence or power over my heart. This is no lover’s oath—no profession which the intoxication of passion may extort: it is the free and solemn purpose of a soul conquered and enchained by you. Oh Calantha, beloved, adored, look upon me, and say that you believe me. Lean not upon a lover’s bosom, but upon a friend, a guardian and protector, a being wholly relying on your mercy and kindness. My love, my soul, look yet once upon me.” “Why fall our tears? Is it in terror of approaching evil, or in regret for involuntary error? My bosom’s comfort, my soul’s idol, look not thus coldly on me; for I deserve it not. Your will is mine: lead me as it delights your fancy: I am a willing slave.” “If you abandon me,” said Calantha, in tears. “May the curse of God burn my heart and consume me! may every malediction and horror fall tenfold upon my head! may phrenzy and madness come upon my senses! and tortures in this world and the next be my portion, if ever I change my sentiments towards you!” With words like these, Glenarvon silenced her as she returned to the castle; and, strange as it may seem, untroubled sleep—such sleep as in better days she once enjoyed, fell upon all her senses, quieted every passion, and obliterated, for a few hours, the scenes of guilt which tortured her with their remembrance. CHAPTER XXXIII. To wake is terrible when the heaviness of sin is upon us!—to wake, and see every object around us the same as before; but to feel that we are utterly changed! I am still in a father’s house, she thought, as late the ensuing morning she opened her eyes. “My name is not yet branded with disgrace; but I belong alone upon earth to Glenarvon.” Mrs. Seymour sent for her: the nurse entered with the children. But Calantha looked upon the ring, and trembled. Lady Avondale ordered her horses, and, dressing in haste, entered Mrs. Seymour’s room. Never had she found it easy to deceive till that moment. To tell her the truth had been to kill her: she feigned therefore with ease, for her aunt’s life required it, and she herself was desperate. “Have you kept your resolution, my Calantha?”—“Yes,” she replied, nor blushed at affirming it. “Two days, and you have not seen Glenarvon?” she said, with a faint smile! Is this possible?—“I thought one had killed me,” replied Calantha; “but I look well; do I not?” and she hurried from her presence.