Mr. Athelstone attended to all she professed, and with the benevolent spirit of Him who said;--"Neither do I condemn thee.--Go, and sin no more!" he combated all her agitated arguments against uniting her fate with the person, she confessed to be dearest to her in the world.
"My Uncle," said she, "am I not commanded, in some cases, to cut off my right hand? I would do it now."
"In those which might separate me from my duty towards my Creator."
"But be careful to distinguish!" replied he, "ask yourself what duty you will transgress, in becoming the wife of a man, whose errors have been expiated by repentance; and whose reformation has been proved by his conduct towards the memory of the Duke of Ripperda, and his zeal for the rights of his son. I leave you my Cornelia, to ponder on these things. Be merciful to yourself, and just to Wharton, and heaven will bless the sentence of your heart!"
In the evening, when every breeze was calm, and "the bright-haired sun was making a golden set;" the Marquis Santa Cruz sat alone with his daughter, in her dressing room. Their conference had been long and salutary to both their hearts, and even as it closed with a communication to convince Marcella she entirely occupied that of Louis de Montemar; Lorenzo entered to summon the Marquis below.
Mr. Athelstone feared to agitate her, by an abrupt enunciation of the arrival of his nephew, but the appearance of Lorenzo, who had been the companion of his perilous voyage, was enough; and in speechless gratitude, she pressed her father's hand to her lips as he rose to obey the call.
The Marchioness and Mrs. Coningsby, and all of the family, excepting Cornelia and Marcella, were in the drawing-room with the Marquis. The Duke still lay on the litter on which he had been brought on shore; and he was looking around, with a melancholy smile, on the rapturous greetings with which every body met his friend. They were the sacred transports of dear, domestic kindred, where all was pure, and full of innoxious pleasure.
"I never had a family!" said he to himself, "and yet I have seen, and felt transports! and may their memory perish!" cried he, in the same inward voice, "for nothing but selfish passions were there."