Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 54, No. 335, September 1843 by Various
page 49 of 330 (14%)
page 49 of 330 (14%)
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"'But if you love me,' I answered quickly, 'you ought to love my mother, too. Oh! do, dear father--do be kind and loving to her.' "'Edgar,' exclaimed my parent passionately, 'you are very young now--you will be older if you live, and then I can speak to you as a friend. You cannot understand me now. She has broken your father's heart--she has rendered me the most miserable of men. I would I could speak to you, dear Edgar but this tongue will perhaps be cold and immovable before you can understand the tale. I am wretched, wretched, indeed!' "My father was overcome. He could not himself refrain from tears. I felt deeply for him, and would have given any thing to hear this secret cause of grief. But his expressions kept me silent; and I clasped his hands in pity. "'Edgar,' he continued in a loud voice, and speaking through his tears, 'listen to my words. They are sacred. Receive them as you would my dying syllables. You may be distant when the blow falls which divides us. Edgar, I implore you, when you become a man, to let one consideration only guide you in your selection of a partner. Mark me--only one--see that she has a heart--a _virtuous_ heart--and that it be yours entire. Despise wealth-- beauty--family--look to nothing but that. Would to Heaven that I had!-- Edgar--your happiness--your salvation, every thing, depends upon it. I have lost all--I am crushed and ruined; but do you, dear child, learn wisdom from your father's wreck.' "He said no more. I could not answer him, for my heart was choked. In a few minutes he bade me, in a quiet tone, retire to the breakfast room; and shortly afterwards he made his own appearance there, looking as moodily |
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