The Disowned — Volume 07Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
The Disowned — Volume 07
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
"You don't remember," said Clarence (as we will yet continue to call
our hero), smiling, "that your husband had forgotten it."
"Ay, sir," cried the piqued steward, "but that was because you wore
your hat slouched over your eyes: if you had taken off that, I should
have known you directly."
"However that may be," said Clarence, unwilling to dwell longer on an
occurrence which he saw hurt the feelings of the kind Mr. Wardour, "it
is very easy to explain how I preserved my incognito. You recollect
that my father never suffered me to mix with my mother's guests: so
that I had no chance of their remembering me, especially as during the
last three years and a half no stranger had ever entered our walls.
Add to this that I was in the very time of life in which a few years
work the greatest change, and on going to London I was thrown entirely
among people who could never have seen me before. Fortunately for me,
I became acquainted with my mother's uncle; circumstances subsequently
led me to disclose my birth to him, upon a promise that he would never
call me by any other name than that which I had assumed. He, who was
the best, the kindest, the most generous of human beings, took a
liking to me. He insisted not only upon his relationship to me, as my
grand-uncle, but upon the justice of repairing to me the wrongs his
unhappy niece had caused me. The delicacy of his kindness, the ties
of blood, and an accident which had enabled me to be of some service
to him, all prevented my resisting the weight of obligation with which
he afterwards oppressed me. He procured me an appointment abroad: I
remained there four years. When I returned, I entered, it is true,
into very general society: but four years had, as you may perceive,
altered me greatly; and even had there previously existed any chance
of my being recognized, that alteration would probably have been
sufficient to insure my secret."
"But your brother,--my present lord,--did you never meet him, sir?"
"Often, my good mother; but you remember that I was little more than
six years old when he left England, and when he next saw me I was
about two and twenty: it would have been next to a miracle, or, at
least, would have required the eyes of love like yours, to have
recalled me to memory after such an absence."
"Well--to turn to my story--I succeeded, partly as his nearest
relation, but principally from an affection dearer than blood, to the
fortune of my grand-uncle, Mr. Talbot. Fate prospered with me: I rose
in the world's esteem and honour, and soon became prouder of my
borrowed appellation than of all the titles of my lordly line.
Circumstances occurring within the last week which it will be needless
to relate, but which may have the greatest influence over my future
life, made it necessary to do what I had once resolved I would never
do,--prove my identity and origin. Accordingly I came here to seek
you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account