Englefield Grange; or, Mary Armstrong's TroublesPaull, H. B., Mrs.
General
Englefield Grange; or, Mary Armstrong's Troubles
Paull, H. B., Mrs.
Fiction
"I must make a home for them as soon as I can turn myself round," he
said a few hours after, when talking the matter over with Kate Marston.
"I have to settle the business which brought me to England, and to
ascertain what claim I have on my wife's property."
"What! did you not do so before you married her?" asked Kate, in
astonishment.
"No," he replied, "she was very reticent on the subject, and I did not
like to question her, or indeed her friends--she appeared to have
perfect control over her property. However, she may have left a will. At
all events, I must go to the apartments I have taken for three months,
and look over her papers. Unfortunately, her lawyer is in Australia, and
he may have a will in his possession. But, dear Kate," he continued,
with a shudder, "her death is so recent, and the money subject too
painful to be talked about yet. I know you will take care of my
children, and that is a great relief to my mind."
"Indeed, indeed I will," she replied in a tone of sympathy; the paleness
and the shudder had not escaped her. Had she known the pangs of
conscience which caused that shudder, horror instead of sympathy would
have filled her heart.
And yet the conscience of Arthur Franklyn could only at times arouse him
to doubt the rectitude of his own conduct. By fallacious arguments, and
false reasoning with himself, he had acquired confused ideas of right
and wrong. He had still at times the appearance of being under the
effects of some powerful sedative; and at others the flashing eye and
the flushed face would have denoted the presence of some strong
stimulant to less unsuspecting people than the residents at the Grange.
Arthur Franklyn with all his faults had never given way to intemperance,
therefore the brandy flask which he now carried in his pocket or kept
locked up in his bedroom was more potent in its effects, leaving behind
it, after the first moments of excitement, an opiate-like stupor and
stolidity of manner, very unlike that of the bright and fascinating
Arthur Franklyn of former times.
When he left the little breakfast-parlour, in which we first met three
of the residents of Englefield Grange, Dr. Halford and Kate Marston were
alone.
"Uncle," said the latter, "Arthur is very much changed since the death
of his second wife."
"Well, my dear, perhaps he is, but it's very natural under the painful
circumstances in which she died. I cannot be surprised at his marrying
again; of course he wanted a companion, and a mother for his children.
The lady he chose appeared to me very pleasing and agreeable, and
perhaps her money was a great temptation, although I do not think a
marriage for money alone can ever insure happiness."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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