The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 1Scotus, Johannes
History
The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 1
Scotus, Johannes
Conduct of life -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- George IV, 1820-1830 -- Fiction
Alice is the youngest sister of the noble Marquis of Arranmore." He
dropped the paper, still undecisive how he should act, when, to his
surprise and astonishment, who should enter the room but Ellen,
apparently quite composed, with a smile on her face; but one had only to
look at her wild eye, to see all was not right. Her smile was the bitter
smile which sometimes betrays rejected love. So allied are our intensest
feelings of sorrow and pleasure, that tears may course the cheek for
very joy, and smiles light the countenance for very sorrow, blackness,
and stagnation of woe.
She sat down on a sofa, but she scarcely knew where she was; she spoke
not, sighed not, wept not,--she scarcely seemed to draw her breath. The
eloquence of that silent suffering was awful; the stillness was the
stillness of death,--not the death of the mortal frame, but the death,
the annihilation of all soft feelings, and all love by one fell swoop.
Mr. Ravensworth looked at his daughter in silence too; he saw how great
her grief was; he saw that she was yet unconscious of all its depth and
all her loss; and so at first he spoke not. Five minutes and more of
this deadly silence lasted, and then the poor girl's father spoke.
"My poor Ellen! it is a great trial; God give you strength to bear it!"
For a moment she looked at him wildly; for a dread moment he feared her
mind had given way beneath the blow; but, heaven be praised! it had not,
and in a voice--how unlike her usual silvery tone! she said, "Yes, papa,
I am stunned,--stupefied. My God! is it true,--has he left me? Cruel,
cruel man! My heart is full,--it is bursting! Would God that it might
break!"
"My own Ellen, did I not warn you, dearest,--did I not entreat you----"
"Reason not with despair! No, no, no!--it is vain! He has left me,--left
me cruelly! Oh, it was cruel to raise hopes only to quench them! I am
desolate. It is no dream,--I am broken-hearted! Let me die! What is life
now to me?--let me die!"
"Say not so, darling,--time will heal your wound; he was not worthy of
you, Ellen."
"Add not to my grief, dearest papa,--if you love me, desist. It is
false! Eternity can never heal that wound,--but speak not so of him! He
has left me,--forsaken me,--killed me; but I love him,--I love him
still!"
"Be calm, my own love. This is only excitement; try and be calm,
Ellen,--do, dearest!"
"I will--I will! See how I bear it! See, I do not weep,--but, oh! my
head,--how it throbs! My eyeballs seem of flame,--they are bursting out
of my head! My brain seems on fire! Oh, if I could cry! If I could only
cry! I cannot,--I have no tears,--they are dried up!"
"I will leave you, darling, now; try and weep if you can; think of
something to cry on,--try: it will relieve you."
He left the poor girl alone, for he knew she had spoken the truth,--she
_was_ stunned; but when Nature's soft relief came,--when the tears
fell,--the storm would weep itself away: as in nature, so he knew it was
in the natural mind.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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