Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 11Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
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Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 11
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
"These letters, my lord; I have so much to say!"
Any interruption, even an earthquake, at that moment must have been
welcome to Vargrave. He bent his head, with a polite smile, linked his
arm into his secretary's, and withdrew to the recess of the farthest
window. Not a minute elapsed before he turned away with a look of
scornful exultation. "Mr. Howard," said he, "go and refresh yourself,
and come to me at twelve o'clock to-night; I shall be at home then." The
secretary bowed, and withdrew.
"Now, sir," said Vargrave, to Maltravers, "I am willing to leave you in
possession of the field. Miss Cameron, it will be, I fear, impossible
for me to entertain any longer the bright hopes I had once formed; my
cruel fate compels me to seek wealth in any matrimonial engagement. I
regret to inform you that you are no longer the great heiress; the whole
of your capital was placed in the hands of Mr. Douce for the completion
of the purchase of Lisle Court. Mr. Douce is a bankrupt; he has fled to
America. This letter is an express from my lawyer; the house has closed
its payments! Perhaps we may hope to obtain sixpence in the pound. I am
a loser also; the forfeit money bequeathed to me is gone. I know not
whether, as your trustee, I am not accountable for the loss of your
fortune (drawn out on my responsibility); probably so. But as I have not
now a shilling in the world, I doubt whether Mr. Maltravers will advise
you to institute proceedings against me. Mr. Maltravers, to-morrow, at
nine o'clock, I will listen to what you have to say. I wish you all
good-night." He bowed, seized his hat, and vanished.
"Evelyn," said Aubrey, "can you require to learn more; do you not already
feel you are released from union with a man without heart and honour?"
"Yes, yes! I am so happy!" cried Evelyn, bursting into tears. "This
hated wealth,--I feel not its loss; I am released from all duty to my
benefactor. I am free!"
The last tie that had yet united the guilty Caroline to Vargrave was
broken,--a woman forgives sin in her lover, but never meanness. The
degrading, the abject position in which she had seen one whom she had
served as a slave (though, as yet, all his worst villanies were unknown
to her), filled her with shame, horror, and disgust. She rose abruptly,
and quitted the room. They did not miss her.
Maltravers approached Evelyn; he took her hand, and pressed it to his
lips and heart.
"Evelyn," said he, mournfully, "you require an explanation,--to-morrow I
will give and seek it. To-night we are both too unnerved for such
communications. I can only now feel joy at your escape, and hope that I
may still minister to your future happiness."
"But," said Aubrey, "can we believe this new and astounding statement?
Can this loss be so irremediable; may we not yet take precaution, and
save, at least, some wrecks of this noble fortune?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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