You have not suspected the whole extent of evil that would have been yours, had you indeed fled with that hypocritical villain.

Caroline, Lord Alphingham is a married man--his wife still lives!" Had a thunderbolt fallen at her feet, or the earth yawned beneath her, not more pale or transfixed would Caroline have stood than she did as those unexpected words fell clear and shrill as a trumpet-blast upon her tortured ear.

Amid all her conjectures as to the meaning of Percy's words, this idea had never crossed her mind; that Alphingham could thus have deliberately been seeking her ruin, under the guise of love and honour, was a stretch of villainy that entered not into her conception.
Now that the truth was known, she stood as if suddenly turned to marble, her cheek, her very lips bearing the colour of death.

Then came the thoughts of the past; had it not been for those recollections of her childhood, her mother's love, devotion, what would she now have been?
In vain she struggled to bear up against that rushing torrent of thought; every limb was seized with violent trembling, her brain reeled, and she would have sunk to the ground, had not Percy, alarmed at the effect of his words, led her tenderly to a seat, and kneeling by her side, threw his arms around her.

Her head sunk on his shoulder, and she clung to him as if evil and guilt and wretchedness still hovered like fiends around her, and he would protect her from them all.