Book 10
a sigh heaved up from her distracted heart.
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But even after that the nurse could not
conceive such evil in the girl's sick heart;
and yet she had a feeling it must be
only a love affair could cause the crime:
and with persistent purpose begged the cause.
She pressed the weeping girl against her breast;
and as she held her in her feeble arms,
she said, “Sweet heart, I know you are in love:
in this affair I am entirely yours
for your good service, you must have no fear,
your father cannot learn of it from me.,”
just like a mad girl, Myrrha sprang away,
and with her face deep-buried in a couch,
sobbed out, “Go from me or stop asking me
my cause of grief—it is a crime of shame—
I cannot tell it!” Horrified the nurse
stretched forth her trembling hands, palsied
with age and fear. She fell down at the feet
of her loved foster-child, and coaxing her
and frightening her, she threatened to disclose
her knowledge of the halter and of what
she knew of her attempted suicide;
and after all was said, she gave her word
to help the girl, when she had given to her
a true confession of her sad heart-love.
The girl just lifted up her face, and laid
it, weeping, on the bosom of her nurse.
She tried so often to confess, and just
as often checked her words, her shamed face hid
deep in her garment: “Oh”, at last she groans,
“O mother blessed in your husband—oh!”
Only that much she said and groaned. The nurse
felt a cold horror stealing through her heart
and frame, for she now understood it all.
And her white hair stood bristling on her head,
while with the utmost care of love and art
she strove to use appropriate words and deeds,
to banish the mad passion of the girl.
Though Myrrha knew that she was truly warned,
