rave girl all your life, Mary; you must lean on
me ... you must trust in me ... and be a brave girl till the end.
MARY. Who is she? What does she want with _him_? And he ... where is he?
Do you know that my father is dead, and the Deacon not here? Where has
he gone? He may be dead, too. Father, brother ... O God, it is more than
I can bear!
LESLIE. Mary, my dear, dear girl ... when will you be my wife?
MARY. O, do not speak ... not speak ... of it to-night. Not to-night! O,
not to-night!
LESLIE. I know, I know, dear heart! And do you think that I, whom you
have chosen, I whose whole life is in your love--do you think that I
would press you now if there were not good cause?
MARY. Good cause! Something has happened. Something has happened ... to
him! Walter...! Is he ... dead?
LESLIE. There are worse things in the world than death. There is ... O
Mary, he is your brother!
MARY. What?... Dishonour!... The Deacon!... My God!
LESLIE. My wife, my wife!
MARY. No, no! Keep away from me. Don't touch me. I'm not fit ... not fit
to be near you. What has he done? I am his sister. Tell me the worst.
Tell me the worst at once.
LESLIE. That, if God wills, dear, you shall never know. Whatever it be,
think that I knew it all, and only loved you better; think that your
true husband is with you, and you are not to bear it alone.
MARY. My husband?... Never.
LESLIE. Mary...!
MARY. You forget, you forget what I am. I am his sister. I owe him a
lifetime of happiness and love; I owe him even you. And whatever his
fault, however ruinous his disgrace, he is my brother--my own
brother--and my place is still with him.
LESLIE. Your place is with me--is with your husband. With me, with me;
and for his sake most of all. What can you do for him alone? how can you
help him alone? It wrings my heart to think how little. But together is
different. Together...! Join my strength, my will, my courage to your
own, and together we may save him.
MARY. All that is over. Once I was blessed among women. I was my
father's daughter, my brother loved me, I lived to be your wife. Now...!
My father is dead, my brother is shamed; and you ... O how could I face
the world, how could I endure myself, if I preferred my happiness to
your honour?
LESLIE. What is my honour but your happiness? In what else does it
consist? Is it in denying me my heart? is it in visiting another's sin
upon the innocent? Could I do that, and be my mother's so
|