Assuredly I did
not regret this circumstance: if sorrow had any place in my heart,
it was that he was gone at last--that he was no longer walking by
my side, and that that short interval of delightful intercourse was
at an end. He had not breathed a word of love, or dropped one hint
of tenderness or affection, and yet I had been supremely happy. To
be near him, to hear him talk as he did talk, and to feel that he
thought me worthy to be so spoken to--capable of understanding and
duly appreciating such discourse--was enough.
'Yes, Edward Weston, I could indeed be happy in a house full of
enemies, if I had but one friend, who truly, deeply, and faithfully
loved me; and if that friend were you--though we might be far
apart--seldom to hear from each other, still more seldom to meet--
though toil, and trouble, and vexation might surround me, still--it
would be too much happiness for me to dream of! Yet who can tell,'
said I within myself, as I proceeded up the park,--'who can tell
what this one month may bring forth? I have lived nearly three-
and-twenty years, and I have suffered much, and tasted little
pleasure yet; is it likely my life all through will be so clouded?
Is it not possible that God may hear my prayers, disperse these
gloomy shadows, and grant me some beams of heaven's sunshine yet?
Will He entirely deny to me those blessings which are so freely
given to others, who neither ask them nor acknowledge them when
received? May I not still hope and trust? I did hope and trust
for a while: but, alas, alas! the time ebbed away: one week
followed another, and, excepting one distant glimpse and two
transient meetings--during which scarcely anything was said--while
I was walking with Miss Matilda, I saw nothing of him: except, of
course, at church.
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