"What forms," said she, "are those rising before me? What is
that dark spot on the clouds? I do wonder what frightful ghost
that is, gleaming on the red tempest? Oh, be merciful and tell me
what region you are from. Oh, tell me, ye strong spirits, or ye
dark and fleeting clouds, that I yet have a friend." "A friend,"
said a low, whispering voice. "I am thy unchanging, thy aged,
and thy disappointed mother. Why brandish in that hand of thine
a javelin of pointed steel? Why suffer that lip I have kissed
a thousand times to equivocate? My daughter, let these tears sink
deep into thy soul, and no longer persist in that which may be your
destruction and ruin. Come, my dear child, retract your steps,
and bear me company to your welcome home." Without one retorting word,
or frown from her brow, she yielded to the entreaties of her mother,
and with all the mildness of her former character she went along
with the silver lamp of age, to the home of candor and benevolence.
Her father received her cold and formal politeness--"Where has
Ambulinia been, this blustering evening, Mrs. Valeer?" inquired he.
"Oh, she and I have been taking a solitary walk," said the mother;
"all things, I presume, are now working for the best."
Elfonzo heard this news shortly after it happened. "What," said he,
"has heaven and earth turned against me? I have been disappointed
times without number.
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