"And will you still retain your foster-name?" asked Delwood, "or will
you travel under your grandfather's Italian name? By the way, I have not
heard the name of your father."
"Paul Sunderland was my father's name."
"Sunderland! the Lady Sunderland! I have seen your mother, Natalie!"
exclaimed he. "It was none other than she, the kind, beautiful lady who
sang to me when I was but a child, in Italy; she whom I begged to take
me to that beautiful place again! Ah, it comes to me now, in no dream,
but a reality; I have always thought, since I first beheld you, that I
had somewhere, at some unknown time, seen a picture which was like you;
but, strange, it was none other than the mother of my own dear
Sea-flower!"
"And your eyes have looked upon my mother, Clarence," said she, gazing
into his very soul,--"and she has smiled upon you? Oh, I shall love you
with a holier love for this!" and the young girl paused, and trembled,
as he held her to his heart, for the thought came rushing into her
soul,--"Oh, what a fearful thing is this,--this depth of fervent love!"
The morrow came; came to all of our friends who were gathered around the
hearthstone of the widow Grosvenor, with joy, for genial rays, other
than of a May morning's sun, were in their hearts; yet those
indescribable tones, which under any circumstances hang around the
word--farewell, were gradually, unawares, jarring, jarring those gentler
notes of peace, even before spoken.
Pages:
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250