The tide was coming in, and the
waves surged heavily with a deep moan upon the beach. Not a sound was
heard except the dull, monotonous moan of the sea, and the fitful,
hollow wail of the wind. The character of the scene was in the last
degree wild, dreary, gloomy and fearful. Not so, however, it seemed to
Marian, who, filled with happy, generous and tumultuous thoughts, was
scarcely conscious of the gathering darkness and the lowering storm, as
she walked up and down upon the beach, listening and waiting. She
wondered that Thurston had not been there ready to receive her; but this
thought gave her little uneasiness; it was nearly lost, as the storm and
darkness also were, in the brightness and gladness of her own loving,
generous emotions. There was no room in her heart for doubt or trouble.
If the thought of the morning's conversation and of Angelica entered her
mind, it was only to be soon dismissed with fair construction and
cheerful hope. And then she pictured to herself the surprise, the
pleasure of Thurston, when he should hear of the accession of fortune
which should set them both free to pursue their inclinations and plans
for their own happiness and for the benefit of others. And she sought in
her bosom if the letters were safe.
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