" The letter in which these
lines occurred offered him such a position as in his modest
self-distrust he had never dreamed of before; the lines
themselves contained the promise of such vast facilities for
carrying on his favorite experiments as he could never hope to
command in his own little study, with his own limited means; and
yet, there he now sat doubting whether he should accept or reject
the tempting honors and advantages that were offered to
him--doubting for his sister's sake!
"Nine months of the year in Paris," he said to himself, sadly;
"and Rose is to pass her married life at Lyons. Oh, if I could
clear my heart of its dread on her account--if I could free my
mind of its forebodings for her future--how gladly I would answer
this letter by accepting the trust it offers me!"
He paused for a few minutes, and reflected. The thoughts that
were in him marked their ominous course in the growing paleness
of his cheek, in the dimness that stole over his eyes. "If this
cleaving distrust from which I cannot free myself should be in
very truth the mute prophecy of evil to come--to come, I know not
when--if it be so (which God forbid!), how soon she may want a
friend, a protector near at hand, a ready refuge in the time of
her trouble! Where shall she then find protection or refuge? With
that passionate woman? With her husband's kindred and friends?"
He shuddered as the thought crossed his mind, and opening a blank
sheet of paper, dipped his pen in the ink.
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