ed, "is it
possible that you do not perceive how unjust, how unkind, how
unchristian, is this constant, this long-continued bitterness against
me, for a part which I was constrained by duty and conscience, by the
force of law, and at my own peril, to act? What did I do, in detriment
to Clifford, which it was possible to leave undone? How could you, his
sister,--if, for your never-ending sorrow, as it has been for mine, you
had known what I did,--have, shown greater tenderness? And do you
think, cousin, that it has cost me no pang?--that it has left no
anguish in my bosom, from that day to this, amidst all the prosperity
with which Heaven has blessed me?--or that I do not now rejoice, when
it is deemed consistent with the dues of public justice and the welfare
of society that this dear kinsman, this early friend, this nature so
delicately and beautifully constituted,--so unfortunate, let us
pronounce him, and forbear to say, so guilty,--that our own Clifford,
in fine, should be given back to life, and its possibilities of
enjoyment? Ah, you little know me, Cousin Hepzibah! You little know
this heart! It now throbs at the thought of meeting him! There lives
not the human being (except yourself,--and you not more than I) who has
shed so many tears for Clifford's calamity. You behold some of them
now. There is none who would so delight to promote his happiness! Try
me, Hepzibah!--try me, Cousin!--try the man whom you have treated as
your enemy and Clifford's!--try Jaffrey Pyncheon, and you shall find
him true, to the heart's core!"

"In the name of Heaven," cried Hepzibah, provoked only to intenser
indignation by this outgush of the inestimable tenderness of a stern
nature,--"in God's name, whom you insult, and whose power I could
almost question, since he hears you utter so many false words without
palsying your tongue,--give over, I beseech you, this loathsome
pretence of affection for your victim! You hate him! Say so, like a
man! You cherish, at this moment, some black purpose against him in
your heart! Speak it out, at once!--or, if you hope so to promote it
better, hide it till you can triumph in its success! But never speak
again of your love for my poor brother. I cannot bear it! It will
drive me beyond a woman's decency! It will drive me mad! Forbear! Not
another word! It will make me spurn you!"

For once, Hepzibah's wrath had given her courage. She had spoken.
But, after all, was this unconquerable distr