Englefield Grange; or, Mary Armstrong's TroublesPaull, H. B., Mrs.
General
Englefield Grange; or, Mary Armstrong's Troubles
Paull, H. B., Mrs.
Fiction
But from this he had been painfully aroused; he would endeavour to
discover whether the young people cared for each other still. The
glamour which the acquisition of wealth had thrown around the man of
business was removed. His ambition now appeared as mockery, his pride a
disgrace, and his conduct to his daughter refined cruelty. Well may the
awakening of the human heart from the influence of the god of this
world, who blinds the eyes of his votaries, be called in the Bible,
"arising from the dead."
Time passed on, and Mrs. Armstrong received a letter from Mary
expressing a wish to return home the following week. "Something must be
done quickly if done at all," said Mr. Armstrong to himself as Rowland
drove him to the station in Mary's pony carriage on that morning. Not
even to Mrs. Armstrong had he given a hint of his intentions.
During the day he received from the bank additional assurances that the
money in their possession was safe. Owing to the delay in the settlement
in some matter of business he left his office in the City rather later
than usual, and arrived on the platform of the station at Euston Square
just as the train was about to start. A porter rushed forward, opened a
first-class carriage, and assisted him to enter, even as the guard's
whistle sounded and the train moved.
Mr. Armstrong, without noticing whether any other passengers were in the
carriage, seated himself next the door, feeling rather disturbed and out
of breath from his hasty movements. After wiping his face with his
pocket-handkerchief, for the April day was rather warm, he raised his
head and faced the only passenger in the carriage beside himself, who
sat directly opposite to him.
A sudden flush rose to his brow almost as vivid as that which had
covered the face of his fellow-passenger at Mr. Armstrong's entrance.
A bow of recognition was followed by a start of surprise, as Mr.
Armstrong held out his hand and said, "Allow me to shake hands with you,
Mr. Halford, once more, for the sake of old acquaintance." Henry became
pale with surprise; what could it mean? It was a moral impossibility for
him to resent the pride and neglect of the past three years in the
father of Mary Armstrong, yet he was too completely puzzled to feel at
his ease.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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