American fiction -- 19th century; Dime novels; Popular literature
“Then it was,” he wrote, “that the devil entered into me and
whispered, ‘Now is your hour for revenge on the stripling who dared
lay his hand on you.’ From all I could learn of the Forrests, or
rather, of the judge, I guessed that he would rebel hotly against a
penniless bride in Miss Fleming’s social position, and that nothing
could be more disastrous for Everard than such a marriage; and yet I
aided and abetted it, and took care that it should be altogether
binding, and so gained my mean revenge, for which I have been sorry a
thousand times,—yes, more than that; and if I could undo the work of
that night I would do it gladly. But I cannot, and others suffer the
consequences. You see I am not ignorant of the manner in which Mr. and
Mrs. Forrest live, and I am sorry for them both, and am laying bare my
heart to you that you may know exactly the kind of brother you have
found; and that, however bad he may have been, he is a different man
now, or he would never intrude himself upon you.
“On my first interview with Everard in Holburton, I managed to get him
to speak of you, and I half resolved to seek you and claim you as my
own. But a sense of unworthiness kept me back. I was not a fitting
guardian for a girl like you, and so I still kept silence, and after a
time went to Europe again, where I remained until quite recently, and
where, by a long and dangerous illness, I was brought to a realization
of my sins, and resolved to lead a new life. Naturally, one of the
first and strongest desires of my new life was to find you. Mrs.
Forrest, who wrote to me occasionally, had told me that you had left
the Forrest House, of which you were the lawful heir; and as my health
required a warm climate, I came first to Florida, after my return to
America, intending, in the spring, to spare no pains to find you. The
rest you know.
“And now, Rossie, will you take me for a brother? If so, please leave
a line at the office, telling me where I can see you and when, and in
all the world there will be no one so happy as your affectionate
brother,
“JOHN MATTHEWSON, _ne_ HASTINGS.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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