Gone to Be Married

These proceedings, the tenor of which was briefly communicated
to me in a hurried note from Julia, despatched by the hands of
the physician, under a cover, to the friendly aunt, rendered it
imperatively necessary that, whatever we proposed to do should be
done quickly, if we entertained any hope to save.

The tone of her epistle alarmed me exceedingly in one respect, as
it evidently showed that she could not much longer save herself. Her
courage was sinking with her spirits, which were yielding rapidly
beneath the continued presence of that persecution which had
so long been acting upon her. She began now to distrust her own
strength--her very powers of utterance to declare her aversion to
the proposed marriage, if ever the trial was brought to the threatened
issue before the holy man.

"What am I to do--what say--" demanded her trembling epistle,
"should they go so far? Am I to declare the truth?--can I tell to
strange ears that it is my mother who forces this cruel sacrifice
upon me? I dread I can not. I fear that my soul and voice will
equally fail me. I tremble, dear Edward, when I think that the awful
moment may find me speechless, and my consent may be assumed from
my silence. Save me from this trial, dearest Edward; for I fear
everything now--and fear myself--my unhappy weakness of nerve and
spirit more than all. Do not leave me to this trial of my strength--for
I have none. Save me if you can!"

It may be readily believed that I needed little soliciting to
exertion after this. The words of this letter occasioned an alarm
in my mind, little less--though of a different kind--than that which
prevailed in hers. I knew the weakness of hers--I knew hers--and
felt the apprehension that she might fail at the proper moment,
even more vividly than she expressed it.