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Theresa Marchmont - or, the Maid of Honour by Mrs Charles Gore
page 51 of 56 (91%)
perceived my Helen lying insensible on the floor; and Theresa--yes--
the altered and to me terrible figure of Theresa, bending over her.
For one dreadful moment I believed that you had fallen a victim to
her insanity.

"And now Helen--my injured, but fondly beloved Helen, now that my
tale of evil is fully disclosed, resolve at once the doom of my
future being. Yet in mercy be prompt in your decision; and whether
you determine to unfold to the whole world the measure of my guilt,
or, since nothing can now extricate us from the web of sin and shame
in which we are involved, to assist in shielding me from a discovery
which would be fatal to the interests of our innocent child, let me
briefly hear the result of your judgment. Of this alone it remains
for me to assure you--that I will not one single hour survive the
publication of my dishonour."


For several hours succeeding the perusal of the forgoing history,
Lady Greville remained chained as it were to her seat by the
bewildering perplexities of her mind. The blow, in itself so sudden,
so fraught with mischiefs, involving a thousand interests, and
affording no hope to lessen its infliction, appeared to stupify her
faculties. Lost in the contemplation of evils from which no worldly
resource availed to save herself or her child, indignation,
compassion, and despair, by turns obtained possession of her bosom.
Her first impulse, worthy of her gentle nature, was to rush to the
bed-side of her sleeping boy, and there, on her knees, to implore
divine aid to shelter his unoffending innocence, and grace to
enlighten her mind in the choice of her future destiny. And He, who
in dealing the wound of affliction, refuseth not, to those who seek
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