The discarded daughter; or, The children of the isleSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
The discarded daughter; or, The children of the isle
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Chesapeake Bay Region (Md. and Va.) -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Maryland -- Fiction
misery. Such a journey, dear Garnet, will be your life if you set out
upon it with ill-gotten riches. Now, look on the other side of the
question. If you should start upon a journey that you know will bring
you finally to a haven of rest and honor—no matter how common your
vehicle, how rough your road, how ordinary the landscape, how full of
unpleasant accidents—you will endure it, and at every stage with more
cheerfulness, for knowing that it brings you nearer to its end, and that
its end is repose and happiness. And, if your journey should be
pleasant, its very pleasures will be enhanced by the knowledge that its
goal is rest, honor, and joy. Such a journey will our lives be, dearest
love. You will resign this estate. We will marry, and, feeling the smile
and blessing of God upon us, we will go forth strongly and hopefully and
labor for our living. We shall have some early struggles, but God will
be with us. He will bless our sacrifice, and we shall finally prosper.
And while weeks are slipping into months, and months gliding into years,
we shall really enjoy the very making of a fortune, taste prosperity
piecemeal, and get the good of every morsel. Every little comfort that
we may be able to add to our daily domestic life will be relished the
more that we have felt the want of it, and blessed the more that it has
come to us from God. And for our future years I hope highly, but may not
prophesy. They are in the hands of God,” he said, raising his hat with
profound reverence. Then, his tone changing to one of deep tenderness,
he stretched forth his arms, and said: “Come, Nettie! Come, my darling
wife. You will give up all this ill-starred wealth, and trust in God to
restore you a hundredfold.”
Pale and drooping with excess of feeling she sank upon his bosom,
murmuring:
“Oh, God bless you, Hugh! Large and full heart, God bless you! Where
could I find my life but in you? But, oh, dear Hugh, do not be a martyr
at this rational age of the world! Take my fortune with me.”
“Never, Nettie! Never, so strengthen me Heaven! When I take you I will
take no sin with you.”
She started, burst from his embrace, and broke forth with passionate
vehemence:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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