ra, why was it our fate to grieve such a godlike man? Yes, a
godlike man, for what is more godlike than to forgive? Could we only
have imagined such a happy issue possible, we should not now owe it to
such violent means, we should owe it to our entreaties alone. What
happiness is in store for me! But how painful also will be the
conviction, that I am so unworthy of this happiness!

MARWOOD (_aside_).

And I must be present to hear this.

SARA.

How perfectly you justify my love by such thoughts.

MARWOOD (_aside_.)

What restraint must I put on myself!

SARA.

You too, Madam, must read my father's letter. You seem to take too
great an interest in our fate to be indifferent to its contents.

MARWOOD.

Indifferent? (_takes the letter_).

SARA.

But, Madam, you still seem very thoughtful, very sad----

MARWOOD.

Thoughtful, but not sad!

MELLEFONT (_aside_).

Heavens! If she should betray herself!

SARA.

And why then thoughtful?

MARWOOD.

I tremble for you both. Could not this unforeseen kindness of your
father be a dissimulation? An artifice?

SARA.

Assuredly not, Madam, assuredly not. Only read and you will admit it
yourself. Dissimulation is always cold, it is not capable of such
tender words. (Marwood _reads_.) Do not grow suspicious, Mellefont, I
beg. I pledge myself that my father cannot condescend to an artifice.
He says nothing which he does not think, falseness is a vice unknown to
him.

MELLEFONT.

Oh, of that I am thoroughly convinced, dearest Sara! You must pardon
Lady Solmes for this suspicion, since she does not know the man whom it
concerns.

SARA (_whilst_ Marwood _returns the letter to her_).

What do I see, my lady? You are pale! You tremble! What is the matter
with you?

MELLEFONT (_aside_).

What anxiety I suffer? Why did I bring her here?

MARWOOD.

It is nothing but a slight dizziness, which will pass over. The night
air on my journey must have disagreed with me.

MELLEFONT.

You frighten me! W