"I am distressed, my lord," were the first words she was able to
articulate, and those with difficulty; "I scarce know what I would say,
nor how to speak it."
"If I have any share in occasioning your uneasiness," said Lord Evandale,
mildly, "you will soon, Edith, be released from it."
"You are determined then, my lord," she replied, "to run this desperate
course with desperate men, in spite of your own better reason, in spite
of your friends' entreaties, in spite of the almost inevitable ruin which
yawns before you?"
"Forgive me, Miss Bellenden; even your solicitude on my account must not
detain me when my honour calls. My horses stand ready saddled, my
servants are prepared, the signal for rising will be given so soon as I
reach Kilsyth. If it is my fate that calls me, I will not shun meeting
it. It will be something," he said, taking her hand, "to die deserving
your compassion, since I cannot gain your love."
"Oh, my lord, remain!" said Edith, in a tone which went to his heart;
"time may explain the strange circumstance which has shocked me so much;
my agitated nerves may recover their tranquillity. Oh, do not rush on
death and ruin! remain to be our prop and stay, and hope everything from
time!"
"It is too late, Edith," answered Lord Evandale; "and I were most
ungenerous could I practise on the warmth and kindliness of your feelings
towards me.
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