All was so extraordinary, so unlooked for, so bewildering, that from
the moment in which she had retired in such a paroxysm of
highly-wrought feelings from her first interview in the gallery with
him, she became altogether like a person in a trance; and hardly
answering her aunt, when she then led her up the stairs, only
complained she was ill, and threw herself upon a couch.
At the very time that her heart told her in a language she could not
misunderstand, that she irrevocably loved this too glorious, too
amiable Wallace, it as powerfully denounced to her, that she had
devoted herself to one who must ever be to her as a being of air. No
word of sympathy would ever whisper felicity to her heart; no-the flame
that was within her (which she found would be immortal as the vestal
fires which resemble its purity) must burn there unknown; hidden, but
not smothered.
"Were this a canonized saint," cried she, as she laid her throbbing
head upon her pillow, "how gladly should I feel these emotions! For,
could I not fall down and worship him? Could I not think it a world of
bliss, to live forever within the influence of his virtues; looking at
him, listening to him, rejoicing in his praises, happy in his
happiness! Yes, though I were a peasant girl, and he not know that
Helen Mar even existed! And I may live thus," said she; "and I may
steal some portion of the rare lot that was Lady Marion's-to die for
such a man! Ah! could I be in Edwin's place and wait upon his smiles!
But that may not be; I am a woman, and formed to suffer in silence and
seclusion.
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