Chapter 38 - Page 2

may have loved Denbigh
much, that you love your Maker and his ordinances more; and I have no
apprehensions that, were he a disengaged man, and you alone in the
world--unsupported by anything but your sense of duty--you would ever so
far forget yourself as to become his wife But does not your religion, does
not your own usefulness in society, require you wholly to free your heart
from the power of a man who has so unworthily usurped a dominion over it?"

To this Emily replied, in a hardly audible voice, "Certainly--and I pray
constantly for it."

"It is well, my love," said the aunt, soothingly; "you cannot fail with
such means, and your own exertions, finally to prevail over your own worst
enemies, your passions. The task our sex has to sustain is, at the best,
an arduous one; but so much the greater is our credit if we do it well."

"Oh! how is an unguided girl ever to judge aright, if,--" cried Emily,
clasping her hands and speaking with great energy, and she would have
said, "one like Denbigh in appearance, be so vile!" Shame, however, kept
her silent.

"Few men can support such a veil of hypocrisy as that with which I
sometimes think Denbigh must deceive even himself. His case is an
extraordinary exception to a very sacred rule--'that the tree is known by
its fruits,'" replied her aunt. "There is no safer way of judging of
character that one's opportunities will not admit of more closely
investigating, than by examining into and duly appreciating early
impressions. The man or woman who has constantly seen the practice of
piety before them, from infancy to the noon of life, will seldom so far
abandon the recollection of virtue as to be guilty of great enormities.
Even Divine Truth has promised that his blessings or his curses shall
extend to many generations. It is true, that with our most most guarded
prudence we may be deceived." Mrs. Wilson paused and sighed heavily, as
her own case, connected with the loves of Denbigh and her niece, occurred
strongly to her mind. "Yet," she continued, "we may lessen the danger much
by guarding against it; and it seems to me no more than what
self-preservation requires in a young woman. But for a religious parent to
neglect it, is a wilful abandonment of a most solemn duty."

As Mrs. Wilson concluded, her niece, who had recovered the command of her
feelings pressed her hand in silence to her lips, and showed a disposition
to retire from a spot which she found recalled too many recollections of
a man whose image it was her imperious duty to banish, on every
consideration of propriety and religion.

Their walk into the house was silent, and their thoughts were