It is the birthplace of Beatrice the city associated with
all her triumphs."
"God have mercy, Harry! Her triumphs! Is she, then, an actress?"
"She is a singer,--a wonderful singer; one to whom the world has
listened with breathless delight."
"A singing woman! And you have married her? It is an outrage on your
ancestors, and on your parents and sisters."
"I will not hear you speak in that way, Charlotte. Of course I married
her. Did you wish me to ruin and debase her? _That_, I suppose, you
could have forgiven. My sin against the Sandals and society is, that I
married her."
"No, sir; you know better. Your sin is in having any thing whatever to
do with her. There is not a soul in Sandal that would have hesitated
between ruin and marriage. If it had to be one or the other, then father
and mother both, then I, then all your friends, would have said without
hesitation, 'Marry the woman.'"
"I expected and hoped this would be your view of the situation. I could
not give up Beatrice, and I could not be a scoundrel to her."
"You might have thought of another woman besides Beatrice. Is a sin
against a mother a less sin than one against a strange woman? A mother
is something sacred. To wound her heart is to throw a stone at her. You
have committed a sort of sacrilege. And you are married. No entreaties
can prevent, and no repentance can avail. Oh, what a sorrow to darken
all the rest of father's and mother's days! What right have you to spoil
their lives, in order to give yourself a little pleasure? O Harry! I
never knew that you were selfish before.
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