"
"We are sisters!" gasped Priscilla.
I fancied that I understood the word and action. It meant the
offering of herself, and all she had, to be at Zenobia's disposal.
But the latter would not take it thus.
"True, we are sisters!" she replied; and, moved by the sweet word,
she stooped down and kissed Priscilla; but not lovingly, for a sense
of fatal harm received through her seemed to be lurking in Zenobia's
heart. "We had one father! You knew it from the first; I, but a
little while,--else some things that have chanced might have been
spared you. But I never wished you harm. You stood between me and
an end which I desired. I wanted a clear path. No matter what I
meant. It is over now. Do you forgive me?"
"O Zenobia," sobbed Priscilla, "it is I that feel like the guilty one!"
"No, no, poor little thing!" said Zenobia, with a sort of contempt.
"You have been my evil fate, but there never was a babe with less
strength or will to do an injury. Poor child! Methinks you have but
a melancholy lot before you, sitting all alone in that wide,
cheerless heart, where, for aught you know,--and as I, alas! believe,--
the fire which you have kindled may soon go out. Ah, the thought
makes me shiver for you! What will you do, Priscilla, when you find
no spark among the ashes?"
"Die!" she answered.
"That was well said!" responded Zenobia, with an approving smile.
"There is all a woman in your little compass, my poor sister.
Meanwhile, go with him, and live!"
She waved her away with a queenly gesture, and turned her own face to
the rock.
Pages:
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265