Confession; Or, The Blind Heart. A Domestic StorySimms, William Gilmore
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Confession; Or, The Blind Heart. A Domestic Story
Simms, William Gilmore
Domestic fiction
This weak woman, still weak, received me coldly, and I could see in her
looks that she regarded me as one whom it was natural to suppose would
feel some exultation at beholding their downfall. I saw this, but
determined to say nothing, in the attempt to undo these impressions. I
knew that time was the best teacher in all such matters, and resolved
that my deportment should gradually make her wiser on the subject of
that nature which she had so frequently abused, and which, I well
knew, she could never understand. But this hope I soon discovered to be
unavailing. Her disaster had only soured, not subdued her; and, with
the natural tendency of the vulgar mind, she seemed to regard me as the
person to whom she should ascribe all her misfortunes. As, to her narrow
intellect, it seemed natural that I should exult in the accomplishment
of my predictions, so it was a process equally natural that she should
couple me with their occurrence; and, indeed, I was too nearly connected
with the event, through the medium of my unconscious father, not to feel
some portion of the affliction on his account also; though neither his
memory nor my reputation suffered from the development of the affair in
the community where we lived.
Mrs. Clifford did not openly, or in words, betray the feelings which
were striving in her soul; but the general restraint which she put upon
herself in my presence, the acerbity of her tone, manner, and language,
to poor Julia, and the unvaried querulousness of her remarks, were
sufficient to apprize me of the spite which she would have willingly
bestowed upon myself, had she any tolerable occasion for doing so. A few
weeks served still further to humble the conceit and insolence of the
unfortunate woman. The affair turned out much more seriously than I
expected. A sudden fall in the value of real and personal estate, just
about the time when the sheriff's sale took place, rendered necessary
a second levy, which swept the miserable remnant of Mr. Clifford's
fortune, leaving nothing to my uncle but a small estate which had been
secured by settlement to Mrs. Clifford and her daughter, and which the
sheriff could not legally lay hands on.
I came forward at this juncture, and, having allowed them to remove into
the small tenement to which, in their reduced condition they found it
prudent to retire, I requested a private interview with Mrs. Clifford,
and readily obtained it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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