But he had not even the excuse of passion to plead for his violation of my confidence, his betrayal of my affection—I need to recall his untimely grave while I forgive him. Alas! how our youth has been wasted in doubt and sorrow—and to know how happy it might have been! How much anxiety, too, would our previous marriage have removed! The wife with whom I had shared my prosperity would not have turned aside from that adversity which I shrink from offering to my bride. And yet, methinks, I might judge her heart by my own. No change could alter the deep affection treasured there."
He was right, both in his regret and in his reliance. It must be matter of pain to any man to know that his love must demand sacrifices—and too well did Evelyn feel that for his sake Francesca must renounce home, father, friends, station, country—the privileges of gentle birth, the delicacies of wealth;—that for his sake she must prepare to meet difficulty, privation, hardship, danger, and even death. It was hard for a lover to have only such a choice to lay before the beloved one. And yet he was right in his entire confidence. Francesca loved him as those love who have loved but once—the freshness and truth of early years strengthened by
