"
"And what hath changed this pleasing image of our Ruth?" asked his
companion, half-covering her face to conceal the still deeper glow of
female gratification which had been kindled by the words just heard. "I
often think of her as thou hast described, nor do I now see why we may not
still believe her, if she yet live, all that we could desire to see."
"That cannot be--The delusion is gone, and in its place a frightful truth
has visited me. Here is Whittal Ring, whom we lost a boy; thou seest he is
returned a man, and a savage! No, no; my sister is no longer the child I
loved to think her, but one grown into the estate of womanhood."
"Thou thinkest of her unkindly, while thou thinkest of others far less
endowed by nature with too much indulgence; for thou rememberest, Mark,
she was ever of more pleasing aspect than any that we knew."
"I know not that--I say not that--I think not that. But be she what
hardships and exposure may have made her, still must Ruth Heathcote be far
too good for an Indian wigwam. Oh! 'tis horrible to believe that she is
the bond-woman, the servitor, the wife of a savage!"
Martha recoiled, and an entire minute passed, during which she made no
reply.
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