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Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte, 1819-1899

"The Missing Bride"

Before them the upper branches of
the nearest trees formed a natural arch above the picture.
Marian stood and gazed upon the wondrous beauty of the scene with soft,
steady eyes, with lips breathlessly severed, in perfect silence and
growing emotion.
"This pleases you," said Thurston.
She nodded, without removing her gaze.
"You find it charming?"
She nodded again, and smiled.
"You were never here before?"
"Never."
"Marian, you are a lover of nature."
"I do not know," she said, softly, "whether it be love, or worship, or
both; but some pictures spell-bind me. I stand amidst a scene like this,
enchanted, until my soul has absorbed as much of its beauty and glory
and wisdom as it can absorb. As the Ancient Mariner held with his
'glittering eye' the wedding guest, so such a picture holds me
enthralled until I have heard the story and learned the lesson it has to
tell and teach me. Did you ever, in the midst of nature's liberal
ministrations, feel your spirit absorbing, assimilating, growing? Or is
it only a fantastic action of mine that beauty is the food of soul?"
She turned her eloquent eyes full upon him.
He forgot his prudence, forgot her claims, forgot everything, and caught
and strained her to his bosom, pressing passionate kisses upon her lips,
and the next instant he was kneeling at her feet, imploring her to
forgive him--to hear him.


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