he said, "do not thus give way to the violence of your feelings. I wish not to appear stern.—My God! what is the matter?" "Your poor lady is dying," said the nurse. "For the love of mercy, speak one gracious word to her." "I will, I do," said Lord Avondale, alarmed. "Calantha," he whispered, without one reproach, "whatever have been your errors, turn here for shelter to a husband's bosom. I will never leave you. Come here, thou lost one. Thou hast strayed from thy guide and friend. But were it to seal my ruin, I must, I do pardon thee. Oh! come again, unhappy, lost Calantha. Heaven forgive you, as I do, from my soul.—What means this silence—this agonizing suspense?"
"She faints," cried the nurse. "May God have mercy!" said Lady Avondale. "There is something on my mind. I wish to speak—to tell—your kindness kills me. I repent all.—Oh, is it too
