"
Laura understood his meaning under the eagerness of his explanations.
"If you did any wrong, you repented, dear Pen," she said, "and you
know," she added, with meaning eyes and blushes, "that _I_ have no
right to reproach you."
"Hm!" grumbled the old lady; "I should have preferred Bluebeard."
"The past is broken away. The morrow is before us. I will do my best
to make your morrow happy, dear Laura," Pen said. His heart was
humbled by the prospect of his happiness: it stood awe-stricken in the
contemplation of her sweet goodness and purity. He liked his wife
better that she had owned to that passing feeling for Warrington, and
laid bare her generous heart to him. And she--very likely she was
thinking "How strange it is that I ever should have cared for another;
I am vexed almost to think I care for him so little, am so little
sorry that he is gone away. Oh, in these past two months how I have
learned to love Arthur. I care about nothing but Arthur; my waking and
sleeping thoughts are about him; he is never absent from me.
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