Rosamond, or, the Youthful Error: A Tale of Riverside; And Other StoriesHolmes, Mary Jane
General
Rosamond, or, the Youthful Error: A Tale of Riverside; And Other Stories
Holmes, Mary Jane
Fiction
He was standing without the door, so near that he heard the words, and
in a moment he was at her side. Falling upon his knees before her, he
clasped her hands in his, imploring her forgiveness for the great
wrong he had done her in not telling her the truth at first. "But I am
innocent of the last," he said; "believe me, Rosamond, I thought her
dead, or I had never asked you to be my wife. I know not how she
deceived me so terribly, but you know, and I have sought this
interview to hear the story from your own lips. Will you tell it to
me, darling--Miss Leyton, I mean," he added hastily, as he saw a
shadow of pain flit over her face.
"I will if I can," she faintly answered, and summoning all her
strength, she repeated to him what Miss Porter had told her, except,
indeed, the parts with which she knew he was familiar.
"The plot was worthy of her who planned it," he said bitterly; then,
as Rosamond made no reply, he continued--"she told you, I suppose, of
our married life, and painted me the blackest villain that ever trod
the earth. This may in part be true, but, Rosamond, though I may never
know the bliss of calling you my wife, I cannot be thus degraded in
your sight and offer no apology. I was a boy--a self-willed, high-
tempered boy, nineteen years of age, and she aggravated me beyond all
human endurance, seeking ways and means by which she could provoke me.
I loved her at first--nay, do not turn away incredulously. Heaven is
my witness that I loved her, or thought I did, but 'twas a boyish
love, and not such as I feel for you,"
"You swore at her," said Rosamond, unable to reconcile love with an
oath.
"Once--only once," he replied. "I blush to own it, for it was not a
manly act."
"You struck her," and for the first time since he had been in that
room the brown eyes rested full upon his face.
"Yes, Rosamond," he answered; "I own that, too, but she goaded me to
madness, and even raised her voice against my sainted mother, who had
borne so dastardly a son as _I_!"
"And Riverside?" said Rosamond. "Did your uncle die deceived?"
"Never--never," Mr. Browning exclaimed, starting to his feet. "I told
the whole truth, or I would not have lived here a day. Rosamond, I
have greatly sinned, but she has not been blameless. She insulted me
in every possible way, even to giving _you_ her _wedding ring_, and
then, lest I should not see it, wrote to me 'to look upon your
finger.' No wonder you thought me mad!"
"Her _wedding ring_! Could she do that?" said Rosamond.
"Yes, her wedding ring. It first belonged to Susan, who gave it to me
for the occasion, and two weeks after I had it marked with Marie's
name and the date of our marriage. It is broken now, and I would to
Heaven I could thus easily break the tie which binds me to her, and
keeps me from you! Oh, Rosamond, Rosamond, must it be? Must I live my
life without you, when I need you so much--when my heart longs so to
claim you for its own?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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