Bungay Castle: A Novel. v. 1/2Bonhote, Mrs. (Elizabeth)
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Bungay Castle: A Novel. v. 1/2
Bonhote, Mrs. (Elizabeth)
English fiction -- 18th century
But how short and transitory appeared these fleeting moments (on
which she thought old time had bestowed an additional pair of wings)
to the agonized mind of the half-distracted Roseline! who,
notwithstanding her father's prohibition, determined in the course
of the month to inform her mother and brother of every circumstance
that had occurred. She dreaded, more than she would to stroke of
death, imparting to the unfortunate Walter (she had prevailed on Albert
to tell her his Christian name) that he ad a rival, who, authorised
by her father, would endeavour to separate them for ever; and more,
much more than for herself, she trembled for that hapless, persecuted,
unprotected lover, at whose bosom fate had already aimed some of its
most pointed arrows, whose life would be endangered, should her
partiality be discovered--that life on which her own seemed to depend:
his happiness, which was dearer to her than her own, rested with her
only to preserve; if they must be parted, the contest could not be
extended beyond the confines of the grave, and in the friendly grave
they should both find shelter.
The visible change, which appeared the next morning in the countenance
and manners of Roseline, was such as those only who determined not
to see could have avoided observing. Edwin, who met her as she was
going to enter the breakfast-parlour, eagerly cried out, "For heaven's
sake, my dear sister, what, in the name of ill-luck, has happened to
you?--how long have you been ill?"
With tender earnestness she begged him not to mention her altered
looks, promising to acquaint him with the cause the first convenient
opportunity. He agreed to comply with her request, and neither Sir
Philip nor Lady de Morney took any notice; and, when the Baron joined
the breakfast-party, every thing passed as usual. He was very attentive
to his fair enslaver, who, seeing her father's eye sternly fixed upon
her from the moment the Baron entered the room, dared not to repel
his odious gallantry with the coldness and contempt she knew not how
to suppress; but she thought it better to yield submissively to the
mortifications of the present hour, in order to secure to herself the
short respite from certain misery, which upon such painful conditions
had been allowed her.
As soon as breakfast was ended, the Baron and Sir Philip ordered
their horses, and rode out to spend the day at some distance from
the castle. Lady de Morney withdrew to give directions respecting
some domestic arrangements, and the younger part of the family retired
to go on with their usual employments. Edwin followed his sister to
her own apartment, and eagerly requested her instantly to relieve his
mind from the anxiety he could not help feeling on her account, as
he was certain something unpleasant must have happened.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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