And how could she
suspect Caterine to have been the agent of that gentleman, when she knew
now that her object in seeking an interview with herself was to put her
on her guard against him? The case was clear, and, to her, dreadful
as it was clear. She felt herself now, however, in that mood which no
sympathy can alleviate or remove. She experienced no wish to communicate
her distress to any one, but resolved to preserve the secret in her
own bosom. Here, then, was she left to suffer the weight of a twofold
affliction--the dread of Woodward, with which Caterine's intelligence
had filled her heart, feeble, and timid, and credulous as it was upon
any subject of a superstitious tendency--and the still deeper distress
which weighed her down in consequence of Charles Lindsay's treachery and
dishonor. Alas! poor Alice's heart was not one for struggles,
nurtured and bred up, as she had been, in the very wildest spirit of
superstition, in all its degrading ramifications. There was something
in the imagination and constitution of the poor girl which generated and
cherished the superstitions which prevailed in her day.
Pages:
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358