"The sight of you recalls me back to
earth, filling my mind with sad thoughts and dark forebodings. Brother,"
she continued, turning to Frederic, "leave us for a few minutes. I must
speak to Juliet Whitmore, for a short space, alone."
For some seconds the two young creatures remained locked in each other's
arms. Clary was the first to speak.
"The thoughts of heaven," she said, "are full of rapture; the
recollections of earth, full of anguish and tears. It is not for myself,
Juliet, I weep. It is for the living I mourn --for the friends I leave
behind. For me--I have lived long enough. It is better for me to go,
Juliet; I am dying; will you kiss me once more, and tell me that you
forgive your poor little Clary for having dared to love one whose whole
heart was given to you, and who was by you beloved again?"
"Was Anthony dear to your gentle heart, Clary?" said Juliet, stooping
down, and kissing fervently the cold damp brow of the dying girl. "Oh,
dearer far dearer are you to me, in having thus shared, to its full
extent, all the deep sorrow that weighs down my spirit."
"My love, Juliet, was full of hope and joy, of blissful dreams and
visions of peace and happiness. The storm came suddenly upon me, and the
feeble threads that held together my frail existence parted in the
conflict. I am thankful and resigned, and bless the hand that, in mercy,
dealt the blow.
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