A pretty
love, truly, yours must be,--whatever his is,--to condemn him to so
terrible an ordeal, so frightful a fate.'
"She shivered at that, and I went on,--blaming my folly in not
remembering, being a woman, that it was with a woman and her weakness I
had to deal.
"'He is young,' I continued; 'he has probably a long life before him.
Rich, handsome, brilliant,--a magnificent career opening to
him,--position, ease, troops of friends,--you will ruthlessly ruin all
this. Married to you, white as you are, the peculiarity of your birth
would in some way be speedily known. His father would disinherit him (it
was not necessary to tell her he has a fortune in his own right), his
family disown him, his friends abandon him, society close its doors upon
him, business refuse to seek him, honor and riches elude his grasp. If
you do not know the strength of this prejudice, which you call infamous,
pre-eminently in the circle to which he belongs, I cannot tell it you.
Taking all this from him, what will you give him in return? Ruining his
life, can your affection make amends? Blasting his career, will your
love fill the gap? Do you flatter yourself by the supposition that you
can be father, mother, relatives, friends, society, wealth, position,
honor, career,--all,--to him? Your people are cursed in America, and
they transfer their curse to any one mad enough, or generous enough
(that was a diplomatic turn), to connect his fate with yours.
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