“Because I have wronged you, Ralph. Yes, _Ralph!_ You know me now. Do
not ask to see my patched and painted face again, because it is not
mine, but listen to my voice, which you remember. I am your own wife,
Lucy, and I love you, husband mine.”
“She loves me still,” murmured the dying man: “she owns herself my wife,
thank God, thank God!” The tears rolled down his cheeks, and over his
rough and ghastly face a mellow softness stole, like the last gleam of
sunset upon a rocky hill. Dr Haldane rose and noiselessly left the room,
beckoning Mary to follow. The dying husband and his wife were left to
hold their last interview alone.
“What I have been telling you, Ralph, as the history of another, is my
own. I have never forgotten you. I have loved you all along. Forgive me,
if I seem to have sacrificed you to--to those it was my duty to shield
from shame. I could not hear to see disgrace fall upon my children, and
so I fled from them, in hopes to save them from it. And yet I loved
them so that I could not altogether leave them, but took this cottage in
another name, and under this disguise, in order to be near them. *
* The author having been informed by a critical friend that
he has exposed himself to the charge of plagiarism, by
representing Lady Lisgard as thus assuming the character of
another person, begs to state--first, that he has never had
the opportunity of reading the powerful novel, East Lynn
(wherein, as he understands, a similar device is employed);
and secondly, that the idea of the metamorphosis is taken
from a short story (written by himself) which was published
in Chambers's Journal, under the title of “Change for Gold,”
so long ago as 1854.
O lover, husband, who saved my life at peril of his own, a mother's
heart was my excuse--be generous and noble as of old--forgive me!”
“Forgive you!” gasped the sick man: “nay, forgive _me!_ How could I ever
have sought to do you wrong! My own dear Lucy!” In an instant she had
plucked away so much of her disguise as was about her face and head, and
was leaning over him with loving eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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