Tales and Stories: Now First CollectedShelley, Mary Wollstonecraft
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Tales and Stories: Now First Collected
Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft
English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
How she had lived since then she could
hardly tell: she had lingered in the woods by day, or slept in the vault
of the tower, an asylum none were acquainted with or had discovered: by
night she burned the pinecones of the wood, and night was her dearest
time; for it seemed to her as if security came with darkness. She was
unaware that Sir Peter had left that part of the country, and was
terrified lest her hiding-place should be revealed to him. Her only hope
was that Henry would return—that Henry would never rest till he had
found her. She confessed that the long interval and the approach of
winter had visited her with dismay; she feared that, as her strength was
failing, and her form wasting to a skeleton, that she might die, and
never see her own Henry more.
An illness, indeed, in spite of all his care, followed her restoration
to security and the comforts of civilised life; many months went by
before the bloom revisiting her cheeks, and her limbs regaining their
roundness, she resembled once more the picture drawn of her in her days
of bliss before any visitation of sorrow. It was a copy of this portrait
that decorated the tower, the scene of her suffering, in which I had
found shelter. Sir Peter, overjoyed to be relieved from the pangs of
remorse, and delighted again to see his orphan ward, whom he really
loved, was now as eager as before he had been averse to bless her union
with his son. Mrs. Bainbridge they never saw again. But each year they
spent a few months in their Welsh mansion, the scene of their early
wedded happiness, and the spot where again poor Rosina had awoke to life
and joy after her cruel persecutions. Henry’s fond care had fitted up
the tower, and decorated it as I saw; and often did he come over, with
his “Invisible Girl,” to renew, in the very scene of its occurrence, the
remembrance of all the incidents which had led to their meeting again,
during the shades of night, in that sequestered ruin.
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XII.
_THE BROTHER AND SISTER._
AN ITALIAN STORY.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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