He was
wild with happiness. There was not one thing left him to wish for; for
even his mother's nervous state of health could not cast any gloom upon
his gladness. He had grown accustomed to think of her as a confirmed
invalid; and when she came on deck he would sit quietly beside her for a
little while, and lower his clear young voice in speaking to her,
without feeling that his short-lived self-control damped his pleasure.
But she was not often there long enough to test his devotion too
greatly.
Sophy Chantrey was passing through a season of intense misery, both of
mind and body; more bitter even than the wretchedness she had felt when
she could indulge the craving that had taken so deep a hold upon her.
There was nothing voluntary in her abstinence, and consequently neither
pleasure nor pride in being able to exercise self-command. Her health
was greatly enfeebled; and her mind had been weakened almost to
childishness. She felt as if her husband was treating her cruelly; yet
she could see keenly that it was she who had brought ruin upon his
future prospects, as well as those of her boy.
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