wasted, my hopes o'erthrown, my comforts blasted: but go—no assurance of pity now would sooth me; for I am now convinced, what you feel for me is not a settled feeling, but a mere involuntary impulse, such as any son of sorrow may equally excite."
He turned abruptly from her, and with quick, yet tottering steps hastened to the grotto, against whose side he suddenly flung himself, as if for support.
At another time to be accused of insensibility might well have inspired Madeline with resentment; but now she could only feel compassion and tenderness for him, whose pale and disordered looks gave such melancholy evidence of his sufferings. Not more affected by his words, than terrified by his manner, to depart without seeing him in some degree composed, was impossible, and she walked slowly towards him, trusting, that at her approach he would rise, and that
