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Ashton, Warren T.

"Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue"


Maxwell's peculiar tone and penitent air made Emily pause, and perhaps
think she had spoken too hastily. All the wrong of which she could
accuse him was, that he loved her. She felt that this was not a crime.
The remembrance of wrongs she knew he had inflicted upon others,
perhaps weak and unprotected like herself, nerved her resolution, and to
a word of love from him she could not listen. She wished to conciliate
him, if possible, but not at the expense of her self-respect.
"Why have you detained me all this time to listen to a story with which
I was before as familiar as yourself? Why have you used the language of
love, which a refusal to hear now renders insolent?"
"I have offended you, Miss Dumont," said he, in the humblest tones; "can
I hope to be forgiven?"
"Your future conduct alone can secure my forgiveness."
"Then I solemnly promise never again to allude to the admiration with
which I have regarded your matchless beauty, or to mention the love
which now consumes my heart."
"I trust you are sincere," said Emily, not knowing whether to smile or
frown upon this making and breaking the promise in the same breath.


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