I tried to say there was no necessity, but she would not listen.

"Such a seizure may be of no consequence, my love. I trust it isn't. But

on the other hand, it may be a serious matter, and it is my duty,

dearest, my duty to your husband, to discover the cause of it."

I knew quite well what Alma was thinking of, yet I could not say more

without strengthening her suspicions, so I asked for Price, who helped

me up to my room, where I sat on the edge of the bed while she gave me

brandy and other restoratives.

That was the beginning of the end. I needed no doctor to say what had

befallen me. It was something more stupendous for me than the removal of

mountains or the stopping of the everlasting coming and going of the

sea.

The greatest of the mysteries of womanhood, the most sacred, the most

divine, the mighty mystery of a new life had come to me as it comes to

other women. Yet how had it come? Like a lowering thunderstorm.

That golden hour of her sex, which ought to be the sweetest and most

joyful in a woman's life--the hour when she goes with a proud and

swelling heart to the one she loves, the one who loves her, and with her

arms about his neck and her face hidden in his breast whispers her great

new secret, and he clasps her more fondly than ever to his heart,

because another and closer union has bound them together--that golden

hour had come to me, and there was none to share it.

O God! O God! How proudly I had been holding up my head! How I had been

trampling on the conventions of morality, the canons of law, and even

the sacraments of religion, thinking Nature, which had made our hearts

what they are, did not mean a woman to be ashamed of her purest

instincts!

And now Nature herself had risen up to condemn me, and before long the

whole world would be joining in her cry.

If Martin had been there at that moment I do not think I should have

cared what people might think or say of a woman in my condition. But he

was separated from me by this time by thousands of miles of sea, and

was going deeper and deeper every day into the dark Antarctic night.

How weak I felt, how little, how helpless! Never for a moment did I

blame Martin. But I was alone with my responsibility, I was still living

in my husband's house, and--worst of all--another woman knew my secret.

The Woman Thou Gavest Me; Being the Story of Mary O'Neill · 第 168 / 284 题