Quick, relieve me from my uncertainty. What have I to fear? What have I to hope? Is he still the father from whom we fled? And if he is, will Sara be the daughter who loves me so tenderly as to fly again? Alas, had I but done as you wished, dearest Sara, we should now be united by a bond which no caprice could dissolve. I feel now all the misfortune which the discovery of our abode may bring upon me.--He will come and tear you out of my arms. How I hate the contemptible being who has betrayed us to him (_with an angry glance at_ Marwood). SARA. Dearest Mellefont, how flattering to me is this uneasiness I And how happy are we both in that it is unnecessary. Read his letter! (_To_ Marwood, _whilst_ Mellefont _reads the letter_.) He will be astonished at the love of my father. Of my father? Ah, he is _his_ now too. MARWOOD (_perplexed_). Is it possible? SARA. Yes, Madam, you have good cause to be surprised at this change. He forgives us everything; we shall now love each other before his eyes; he allows it, he commands it. How has this kindness gone to my very soul! Well, Mellefont? (_who returns the letter to her_). You are silent? Oh no, this tear which steals from your eye says far more than your lips could say. MARWOOD (_aside_). How I have injured my own cause. Imprudent woman that I was! SARA. Oh, let me kiss this tear from your cheek. MELLEFONT. Ah, Sara, why was it our fate to grieve such a godlike man? Yes, a godlike man, for what is more godlike than to forgive? Could we only have imagined such a happy issue possible, we should not now owe it to such violent means, we should owe it to our entreaties alone. What happiness is in store for me! But how painful also will be the conviction, that I am so unworthy of this happiness! MARWOOD (_aside_). And I must be present to hear this. SARA. How perfectly you justify my love by such thoughts. MARWOOD (_aside_.) What restraint must I put on myself! SARA. You too, Madam, must read my father's letter. You seem to take too great an interest in our fate to be indifferent to its contents. MARWOOD. Indifferent? (_takes the letter_). SARA. But, Madam, you still seem very thoughtful, very sad---- MARWOOD. Thoughtful, but not sad! MELLEFONT (_aside_). Heavens! If she should betray herself! SARA. And why then thoughtful? MARWOOD. I tremble for you both. Could not this unforeseen kindness of your father be a dissimulation? An artifice? SARA.