A Strange Story — CompleteLytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Science
A Strange Story — Complete
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
If ever my heart vowed itself to Lilian, the vow was now the most
trustful and the most sacred. I had relinquished our engagement before;
but then her affection seemed, no matter from what cause; so estranged
from me, that though I might be miserable to lose her, I deemed that she
would be unhappy in our union. Then, too, she was the gem and darling of
the little world in which she lived; no whisper assailed her: now I knew
that she loved me; I knew that her estrangement had been involuntary;
I knew that appearances wronged her, and that they never could be
explained. I was in the true position of man to woman: I was the shield,
the bulwark, the fearless confiding protector! Resign her now because
the world babbled, because my career might be impeded, because my good
name might be impeached,--resign her, and, in that resignation, confirm
all that was said against her! Could I do so, I should be the most
craven of gentlemen, the meanest of men!
I went to Mrs. Ashleigh, and entreated her to hasten my union with her
daughter, and fix the marriage-day.
I found the poor lady dejected and distressed. She was now sufficiently
relieved from the absorbing anxiety for Lilian to be aware of the change
on the face of that World which the woman I had just quitted personified
and concentred; she had learned the cause from the bloodless lips of
Miss Brabazon.
“My child! my poor child!” murmured the mother. “And she so
guileless,--so sensitive! Could she know what is said, it would kill
her. She would never marry you, Allen,--she would never bring shame to
you!”
“She never need learn the barbarous calumny. Give her to me, and at
once; patients, fortune, fame, are not found only at L----. Give her
to me at once. But let me name a condition: I have a patrimonial
independence, I have amassed large savings, I have my profession and my
repute. I cannot touch her fortune--I cannot,--never can! Take it while
you live; when you die, leave it to accumulate for her children, if
children she have; not to me; not to her--unless I am dead or ruined!”
“Oh, Allen, what a heart! what a heart! No, not heart, Allen,--that bird
in its cage has a heart: soul--what a soul!”
CHAPTER LIX.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account