'And these are all locked up for ever. No one has seen them.'
'So. When I was a young lad, my poor father put some lines of mine
into a newspaper. That sufficed me,' and he shut the clasped book as
if repenting of having revealed the contents.
'No, I was not thinking of anything you would dislike with regard to
those verses. I don't like to let in the world on things precious,
but (how could she venture so far!) I was thinking how many powers
and talents are shut up in that study! and whether they might not
have been meant for more. I beg your pardon if I ought not to say
so.'
'The time is past,' he replied, without displeasure; 'my youth is
gone, and with it the enterprise and hopefulness that can press
forward, insensible to annoyance. You should have married a man with
freshness and energy more responsive to your own.'
'Oh, Edmund, that is a severe reproach for my impertinent speech.'
'You must not expect too much from me,' he continued. 'I told you
that I was a broken, grief-stricken man, and you were content to be
my comforter.'
'Would that I could be so!' exclaimed Albinia, 'but to try
faithfully, I must say what is on my mind. Dear Edmund, if you would
only look out of your books, and see how much good you could do, here
in your own sphere, how much the right wants strengthening, how much
evil cries out to be repressed, how sadly your own poor suffer--oh!
if you once began, you would be so much happier!'
She trembled with earnestness, and with fear of her own audacity, but
a resounding knock at the door prevented her from even discovering
whether he were offended.
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