Confession - Page 167/274

She continued to improve, but slowly. Her organization was always

very delicate. Her frame was becoming thin, almost to meagreness;

and this last disaster, whatever might be its cause, had contributed

still more to weaken a constitution which education and nature had

never prepared for much hard encounter. But, though I saw these

proofs of feebleness--of a feebleness that might have occasioned

reasonable apprehensions of premature decay, and possibly very rapid

decline--there were little circumstances constantly occurring--looks

shown, words spoken--which kept up the irritation of my soul,

and prevented me from doing justice to her enfeebled condition.

My sympathies were absorbed in my suspicions. My heart was the

debateable land of self. The blind passion which enslaved it, I

need scarce say, was of a nature so potent, that it could easily

impregnate, with its own color, all the objects of its survey.

Seen through the eyes of suspicion, there is no truth, no virtue;

the smile is that of the snake; the tear, that of the crocodile;

the assurance, that of the traitor. There is no act, look, word,

of the suspected object, however innocent, which, to the diseased

mind of jealousy, does not suggest conjectures and arguments,

all conclusive or confirmatory of its doubts and fears. It is not

necessary to say that I shrunk from Julia's endearment, requited

her smiles with indifference; and, though I did not avoid her

presence--I could not, in the few days when her case was doubtful--yet

exhibited, in all respects, the conduct of one who was in a sort

of Coventry.

But one fact may be stated--one of many--which seemed to give

a sanction to my suspicions, will help to justify my course, and

which, at the time, was terribly conclusive, to my reason, of the

things which I feared. She spoke audibly the name of Edgerton,

twice, thrice, while she slept beside me, in tones very faint, it

is true, but still distinct enough. The faintness of her utterance,

gave the tones an emphasis of tenderness which perhaps was

unintended. Twice, thrice, that fatal name; and then, what a sigh

from the full volume of a surcharged heart. Let any one conceive my

situation--with my feelings, intense on all subjects--my suspicions

already so thoroughly awakened; and then fancy what they must have

been on hearing that utterance; from the unguarded lips of slumber;

from the wife lying beside him; and of the name of him on whom

suspicion already rested. I hung over the sleeper, breathless,

almost gasping, finally, in the effort to contain my breath--in

the hope to hear something, however slight, which was to confirm

finally, or finally end my doubts. I heard no more; but did

more seem to be necessary? What jealous heart had not found this

sufficiently conclusive? And that deep-drawn sigh, sobbing, as

of a heart breaking with the deferred hope, and the dream of youth

baffled at one sweeping, severing blow.