Something of this mystery was beginning to stir in the wife's heart; the girl-wife, married before her character was half formed--before the perfecting of real love, which, taking, as all feelings must, the impress of individual nature, was in her of slow development.
As Agatha lay, her head hidden on her husband's shoulder, guessing out of her own heart something of what was passing in his, there came to her the first longing after that oneness of spirit, without which marriage is but a false or base union, legal and sanctified before men, but, oh! how unholy in the sight of God!
The young wife felt as if now, and not until now, she could unfold to her husband all the secrets of her heart, all its foolishness, ignorance, and fears.
“If you will listen to me, and not despise me very much, I will tell you something that I have never told to any one until now.”
She could not imagine why, but at this soft whisper he trembled; however, he bade her go on.
“You wonder why it is I am so terrified at leaving England? It is not for any of the reasons you said, but for one so foolish that I am half ashamed to confess it. I dare not cross the sea.”
“Is that all?” Mr. Harper cried, and the unutterable dread which had actually blanched his cheek disappeared instantaneously. He felt himself another man.
“Wait, and I'll tell you why this is,” continued Agatha. “When I was a little child, somewhere about four years old, I was at some seaport town--I don't know where nor ever did, for there was no one with me but my nurse, and she died soon after. One day, I remember being in a little boat going to see a large ship. There were other people with us, especially one lady. Somehow, playing with her, I fell overboard.” Here Agatha shuddered involuntarily. “It may be very ridiculous, but even now, when I am ill or restless in mind, I constantly dream over again that horrible drowning.”
Her husband drew her closer to him, murmuring, “Poor child!”
“Ah, I was indeed a poor child! When, after being brought to life again--for I fancy I must have been nearly dead--my nurse forbade me ever to speak of what had happened, no one can tell into what a terror it grew. I never shall overcome it, never! The very sight of the sea is more than I can bear. To cross it---to be on it”--