My questions, coupled with my manner, which has been somewhat
excited, seemed to alarm her. She replied hurriedly:-"Nothing has happened! nothing has offended me! But I feel that
you should not leave me thus. It does not look well. It looks as
if you did not love me."
"Ah! but when you KNOW that I do!"
"I do not know it. Oh, show me that you do, Edward. Stay with me
as you did at first--when we first came here--when we were first
married. Then we were so--so happy!"
"You would not say that you are not happy now?"
"I am not! I do not see you as I wish--when I wish! You leave
me so often--leave me to strangers, and seem so indifferent. Oh!
Edward, do not let me think that you care for me no longer."
"Strangers! Why, how you talk!--Good old Mrs. Porterfield seems
to me like my own grandmother, and Edgerton has been my friend---"
Did I really hear her say the single word, "Friend!" and with such
an accent! The sound was a very slight one--it may have been my
fancy only;--and she turned away a moment after. What could it mean?
I was bewildered. I followed her to the chamber. I endeavored to
renew the subject in such a manner as not to offend her suspicions,
but she seemed to have taken the alarm. She answered me in monosyllables
only, and without satisfying the curiosity which that single word,
doubtfully uttered, had so singularly awakened.
"Only love me--love me, Edward, and keep with me, and I will not
complain. But if you leave me--if you neglect me--I am desolate!"