And now there remained but the one last resource. She trembled as she thought that, though all was in her own mind prepared, the most difficult point remained yet to be accomplished,--her husband had not yet consented to the disguise she proposed; and although he had not retracted his promise of giving her proposal a fair and patient hearing, she had in fact extracted from him nothing more. If he should now pertinaciously refuse to accede to it! Oh, no, it was impossible. He could not doom her to such hopeless, unutterable misery! Trembling, agitated, yet worked up to the utmost pitch of courage and resolution, she reached his apartment. She staggered into the room; and flinging herself into his arms, she sobbed convulsively on his bosom. She could not speak: but after a few moments he said, with hopeless composure and tenderness,-- "So, my poor Winifred, both houses have then rejected our prayers! Alas for you, my love! would I were able to give you consolation! would I could alleviate your sorrows!" "You can! you can! You, and you alone, can now save me from despair!" she exclaimed with passion. Her eyes were dry, her cheek was flushed, her whole countenance seemed suddenly inspired: "My life, my existence, are in your hands! You have but to will it, to make me the happiest of wives, of mothers! If I am doomed to the early death of the heart-broken," she continued almost in a threatening tone, "or if I am doomed to drag on a weary, joyless existence, a lingering death-like life, in which the welfare of my soul--yes, the salvation of a precious soul, is in peril, for I shall murmur, I shall repine--there is no resignation here--I feel I shall not submit as it would be my duty to do:--if such is the fate before me, it will be _you_ who doom me to it! I can save you--I am sure I can! If you refuse to lend yourself to the measures I propose, it will be _you_ who destroy my happiness in this world, _you_ who peril my salvation in the next!" There was a restless fire in her eye, an energy in her manner, a fearful inspiration about her, that awed, while it touched him. He could not but think what must be the strength of those feelings which could so transport her out of herself; which could change the mild, timid, shrinking wife, into the inspired threatening Sibyl! "Hush, hush, my love! you know not what you say!"