Page:The Wanderer (1814 Volume 1).pdf/432

 first instant that I saw you—heard you—knew you—"

She breathed hard, and spoke with difficulty; but forced herself on.

"From that first instant, Harleigh! I have lived but to cherish your idea!"

Her features now regained their highest expression of vivacity; and, rising, and looking at him with a sort of wild rapture, "Oh Harleigh!" she continued, "have I attained, at last, this exquisite moment? What does it not pay of excruciating suspense, of hateful, laborious forebearance and unnatural self-denial? Harleigh! dearest Harleigh! you are master of my soul! you are sovereign of my esteem, my admiration, my every feeling of tenderness, and every idea of perfection! —Accept, then, the warm homage of a glowing heart, that beats but for you; and that, beating in vain, will beat no more!"

The crimson hue now mounted to her forehead, and reddened her neck: her eyes became lustrous; and she was pre-