He felt the fragrance of her breath,
and longed, yet feared, to touch the lips from which it issued;
spirits of purity seemed to guard them, while all the enchanting
graces of love sported on her cheeks, and languished in her eyes.
Jemima entering, he reflected on his diffidence with poignant
regret, and, she once more taking alarm, he ventured, as Maria
stood near his chair, to approach her lips with a declaration of
love. She drew back with solemnity, he hung down his head abashed;
but lifting his eyes timidly, they met her's; she had determined,
during that instant, and suffered their rays to mingle. He took,
with more ardour, reassured, a half-consenting, half-reluctant
kiss, reluctant only from modesty; and there was a sacredness in
her dignified manner of reclining her glowing face on his shoulder,
that powerfully impressed him. Desire was lost in more ineffable
emotions, and to protect her from insult and sorrow--to make her
happy, seemed not only the first wish of his heart, but the most
noble duty of his life. Such angelic confidence demanded the
fidelity of honour; but could he, feeling her in every pulsation,
could he ever change, could he be a villain? The emotion with which
she, for a moment, allowed herself to be pressed to his bosom, the
tear of rapturous sympathy, mingled with a soft melancholy sentiment
of recollected disappointment, said--more of truth and faithfulness,
than the tongue could have given utterance to in hours! They were
silent--yet discoursed, how eloquently? till, after a moment's
reflection, Maria drew her chair by the side of his, and, with a
composed sweetness of voice, and supernatural benignity of
countenance, said, "I must open my whole heart to you; you must be
told who I am, why I am here, and why, telling you I am a wife,
I blush not to"--the blush spoke the rest.
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