My
sister was on the _causeuse_, literally unable to rise from
debility and agitation. I shall not attempt to describe the shock her
appearance gave me. I was prepared for a change, but not one that
placed her, as my heart instantly announced, so near the grave!
Grace extended both arms, and I threw myself at her side, drew her
within my embrace, and folded her to my heart, with the tenderness
with which one would have embraced an infant. In this situation we
both wept violently, and I am not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a
child. I dare say five minutes passed in this way, without either of
us speaking a word.
"A merciful and all gracious God be praised! You are restored to me in
time, Miles!" murmured my sister, at length. "I was afraid it might be
too late."
"Grace!--Grace!--What means this, love?--my precious, my only, my most
dearly beloved sister, why do I find you thus?"
"Is it necessary to speak, Miles?--cannot you see?--_do_ you not
see, and understand it all?"
The fervent pressure I gave my sister, announced how plainly I
comprehended the whole history. That Grace could ever love, and
forget, I did not believe; but, that her tenderness for Rupert--one
whom I knew for so frivolous and selfish a being, should reduce her to
this terrible state, I had not indeed foreseen as a thing
possible.
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