In the morning she found the locket lying on her parlour table, with the
inscription changed from Agnes Ainslie to Rachel Grierson. She took it
up and fixed her eyes upon it. At one time she would have given the
world for it; now it attracted her and repelled her. It came from the
only man she loved; but another name had been on it, which ought, for
aught she could be sure of, to have been on it still. It might be the
pledge of affection, but it might also be the evidence of falsehood to
her and unfaithfulness to another. And then, as she traced the lines of
her name, she thought she could discover the signs of a tremulousness in
the hand that traced them. Amidst all these thoughts and conflicting
feelings, she could not help recurring to the circumstance that he had
not presented the locket with his own hands. She was unwilling to
indulge in an unfavourable construction; and perhaps the more so that it
so far pleased her as relieving her from the dilemma of accepting it
with more coldness than her love warranted, or more warmth than her
reason allowed. Nay, though she gloated over his image when she was
alone, she felt an undefined fear of meeting him. Might he not be
precipitated into some further defence or confession, which might
fortify suspicions still battling against her prepossessions, and
diminish her love? Nor was this disinclination towards personal
interviews confined to this day--it continued; and it seemed as if he
also wished his connection with her to stand in the meantime upon the
pledges and confessions already made.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81