uccess; all this I do feel; but, oh! I
beseech you, as you value your happiness, as you prize mine, ask me no more
than this."
There was a pause of some seconds; and at length, the low tones of a man's
voice, broken and uncertain in their utterance, said,--
"I know it--I feel it--my heart never bade me hope--and now--'tis over."
He stood up as he spoke, and while he threw the light folds of his mantle
round him, a gleam of light fell upon his features. They were pale as
death; two dark circles surrounded his sunken eyes, and his bloodless lip
looked still more ghastly, from the dark mustache that drooped above it.
"Farewell!" said he, slowly, as he crossed his arms sadly upon his breast;
"I will not pain you more."
"Oh, go not thus from me!" said she, as her voice became tremulous with
emotion; "do not add to the sorrow that weighs upon my heart! I cannot,
indeed I cannot, be other than I am; and I do but hate myself to think that
I cannot give my love where I have given all my esteem. If time--" But
before she could continue further, the noise of approaching footsteps was
heard, and the voice of Sir George, as he came near. Hammersley disappeared
at once, and Lucy, with rapid steps, advanced to meet her father, while I
remained riveted upon the spot. What a torrent of emotions then rushed upon
my heart! What hopes, long dead or dying, sprang up to life again! What
visions of long-abandoned happiness flitted before me! Could it be
then--dare I trust myself to think it--that Lucy cared for me? The thought
was maddening! With a bounding sense of ecstasy, I dashed across the park,
resolving, at all hazards, to risk everything upon the chance, and wait
the next morning upon Sir George Dashwood. As I thought thus, I reached my
hotel, where I found Mike in waiting with a letter. As I walked towards the
lamp in the _porte cochere_, my eyes fell upon the address. It was General
Dashwood's hand; I tore it open, and read as follows:--
Dear Sir,--Circumstances into which you will excuse me entering,
having placed an insurmountable barrier to our former terms of
intimacy, you will, I trust, excuse me declining the honor of any
nearer acquaintance, and also forgive the liberty I take in informing
you of it, which step, however unpleasant to my feelings, will save
us both the great pain of meeting.
I have only this moment heard of your arrival in Brussels, and
take thus the earliest opport
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