"
"It is too late," sighed Amabel.
"Why too late?" cried the earl, imploringly. "We have gone through
severe trials, it is true. I have been constantly baffled in my pursuit
of you, but disappointment has only made me love you more devotedly. Why
too late? What is to prevent our nuptials from taking place
to-day--to-morrow--when you will? The king himself shall be present at
the ceremony, and shall give you away. Will this satisfy your scruples.
I know I have offended you. I know I deserve your anger. But the love
that prompted me to act thus, must also plead my pardon."
"Strengthen me!" she murmured, looking supplicatingly upwards.
"Strengthen me, for my trial is very severe."
"Be not deceived, Amabel," continued Rochester, yet more ardently; "that
you love me I am well assured, however strongly you may at this moment
persuade yourself to the contrary. Be not governed by your father's
strait-laced and puritanical opinions. Men, such as he is, cannot judge
of fiery natures like mine. I myself have had to conquer a stubborn and
rebellious spirit,--the demon pride. But I have conquered. Love has
achieved the victory,--love for you. I offer you my heart, my hand, my
title. A haughty noble makes this offer to a grocer's daughter. Can
you--will you refuse me?"
"I can and do, my lord," she replied. "I have achieved a yet harder
victory.
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