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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"The Scottish Chiefs"


The chapel doors were open. In passing, she saw the bier of her lord
awaiting the hour of its removal, surrounded by priests, singing
anthems for the repose of his soul. No tender recollections, no
remorse, knocked at the heart of Lady mar as she sped along. Abandoned
all to thoughts of Wallace, she felt not that she had a soul; she
acknowledged not that she had a hope, but what centered in the smiles
of the man she was hastening to seek.
His door was fastened with a latch; she gently opened it, and found
herself in his chamber. She trembled--she scarcely breathed; she
looked around; she approached his bed--but he was not there.
Disappointment palsied her heart, and she sunk upon a chair. "Am I
betrayed?" said she to herself: "Has that youthful hypocrite warned him
hence?" And then again she thought, "But how should Edwin guess that I
should venture here? Oh, no, my cruel stars alone are against me!"
She now determined to await his return, and nearly three hours she had
passed there, enduring all the torments of guilt and misery; but he
appeared not. At last, hearing the matinbell, she started up, fearful
that her maids might discover her absence.


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