but abandoned him to his fate.

Such insensibility to her husband's interest distressed
poor Louisa exceedingly. However, it had this good effect:
It contributed greatly to lessen her regret at parting with her parents.

"O had they but loved me as you do, my Marion," said she,
"could they have been so indifferent when my all was at stake?
No, indeed," continued she, "they could not," and burst into tears.

"Dearest Louisa!" replied he, tenderly embracing her,
"would not I leave father and mother and all for you?"

"Well," returned she, with eyes of love, outshining all diamonds,
"and am I not going to leave all for you? Yet a few days and I shall have
no father, no mother, no country; cut off from all the world but you, Marion!
alas! what will become of me if you should prove cruel to me?"

"Cruel! cruel to you, Louisa! O my God, can that ever be?"

"Ah Marion! but some excellent women have left father and mother, and followed
their husbands; and yet, after all have been cruelly neglected by them!"

"Yes, Louisa; and God forgive them for that horrid crime!
But to me such a deed were utterly impossible. I live for happiness, Louisa,
I live for happiness, my angel. And I find so much happiness in loving,
that I would as soon cease to live as cease to love. Some indeed,
`sordid celebutes' for example, seem to exist without love;
but it is only a seeming existence, most joyless and imperfect.
And they bear the dullness of apathy the better, because they have never known