Whatever might be the risk
of again uniting herself with her husband, whatever might be the
mortification and misery which it might ultimately, or even speedily,
entail upon her, there was no unhappiness that she could herself
experience, which for one moment she could put in competition with the
existence of her child. When that was the question, every feeling
that had hitherto impelled her conduct assumed a totally different
complexion. That conduct, in her view, had been a systematic sacrifice
of self to secure the happiness of her daughter; and the result of all
her exertions was, that not only her happiness was destroyed, but her
life was fast vanishing away. To save Venetia, it now appeared to Lady
Annabel that there was no extremity which she would not endure; and if
it came to a question, whether Venetia should survive, or whether
she should even be separated from her mother, her maternal heart now
assured her that she would not for an instant hesitate in preferring
an eternal separation to the death of her child. Her terror now worked
to such a degree upon her character, that she even, at times, half
resolved to speak to Venetia upon the subject, and contrive some
method of communicating her wishes to her father; but pride, the
habitual repugnance of so many years to converse upon the topic,
mingled also, as should be confessed, with an indefinite apprehension
of the ill consequences of a conversation of such a character on the
nervous temperament of her daughter, restrained her.
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