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Dorsey, Anna Hanson, 1815-1896

"May Brooke"

"
"Helen, what is it?" said May, almost overcome, while she took the
package up, and looked at it.
"It is the _lost will_, May, which it was supposed you had burnt.
_This_ is my guilt, Walter," she said, turning to her husband; "this is
the barrier which has lifted itself, like a wall of lead, between my
soul and heaven. Now spurn me, my husband--despise me, May; then,
perhaps, loaded with disgrace, and forsaken and desolate, my Father in
heaven may receive me once more."
"Base woman!" exclaimed her husband, turning from her.
"Sir," said May, grasping his hand; "Helen, whatever her faults may
have been, is worthy of you now. As to the will, except certain
bequests, legacies, and annuities to the poor, over which I have no
control, I want none of it. Only promise to deal kindly with her in
this her hour of genuine humility and repentance. But, see--she is
falling."
"Unworthy, dishonorable Helen, how dare you wed me with this wicked act
on your conscience?" said the outraged man, looking coldly down on the
pale and prostrate form at his feet. "I will leave her with you, May."
"Where are you going, sir?" said May, kneeling down, and lifting
Helen's burning head to her breast.
"To destruction!" he replied, in a low, bitter tone.
"Do not dare leave us, sir," said May, in a commanding tone. "Help me
to lift this penitent woman--so deserving now of your tender
support--to the bed, and go for a physician and Father Fabian.


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