Mr. Sullivan undertook to break the intelligence to Agatha.
Poor Agatha was very much overcome, and for several hours her distress was such as made them almost tremble for her reason. Although the circumstances were related in the most guarded and delicate manner, nor even a hint given as to the motives of an act so unnatural as her father had been guilty of toward her—her sensitive mind too well divined the cause.
“Yet how can I blame them,” said she, glancing in a mirror as she spoke, “who could love such a being! Ah forgive me,” she cried, throwing her arms around the neck of Mrs. Sullivan, who now joined them—“forgive me—_you_—_you_ received me—my best, my dearest, my only mother—_you_ took the little outcast to your arms—_you_ could love even the mis-shapen child whom others loathed!”
Mrs. Sullivan strove by the most gentle caresses to sooth her agitation, and at length succeeded so far that Agatha listened calmly to all she had to say, and expressed her desire to be guided by her in every thing relating to this (to her) painful disclosure.
Almost in a fainting state was Agatha given to her mother’s arms, and at sight of her father she shuddered and buried her face in her hands.
O the pang that went to the soul of her wretched father as he witnessed this!
“Agatha, my _child_, will you not then look upon me! will you not say you forgive me?”
“Father, I have nothing to pardon. I am not now less hideous in form than when to look upon me caused you shame and sorrow. In giving me to my dearest aunt you gave me every blessing, every happiness, this world has for me—but do not, O do not now tear me from!”
“O God! I am rightly punished!” exclaimed Mr. Oakly—“my own child in turn disowns me!”
“Agatha,” said Mrs. Oakly, “will you not love _me_—love your mother, Agatha?”
Agatha hesitated, and her beautiful eyes streamed with tears—
“_Mother!_ I can give that name to but _one_!—_here—here_ is my _mother_!” turning and throwing her arms around the neck of Mrs. Sullivan.
Not so was it with Louisa. Like a dove long panting for its rest, she had at last reached that haven of love—a mother’s heart!
Indeed so much distress did the thought of being separated from her more than mother cause poor Agatha, that, fearful for her health, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan prevailed upon her parents to take up their residence with them for a few months, to which request they finally acceded.