"He
introduced me to his daughter, a little miss of about twelve; so you
were right when you said that men were too sensible to suffer for or
from love. He must have married in two years after he left us. Gerald
left little Constance and me in the library, and went and brought him
to see us. We were with him only a very short time, when he was sent
for. He excused himself, and bade us good-day. Now, father, I will
remove my wrappings, and order dinner."
Day after day passed on, and Constance had schooled herself to think
of Ernest only as a happy husband and father. She did not blame him
for taking a companion. He was away from all kindred and friends, and
she had given him no hope to induce him to wait through all these
years for her.
One day, just a week after their meeting at Congress, she was sitting
reading to her father, when a servant entered, and handed a card. She
read, Ernest Ellwood!
Paler for a few moments, and tightly pressed were the sweet lips. She
did not rise from her seat, until she had communed with her heart.
Now, she thought, I must call up all my fortitude and self-control,
and prove to Ernest, to my father, and, more than all, to myself, that
my heart is not troubled!
"Father," she said, "Ernest is below.
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