The Forgery; or, Best Intentions.James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Forgery; or, Best Intentions.
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Fiction
"Except in regard to your uncle, dear Maria," he replied. "Perhaps in
his case it may be so, but it will spare much hereafter; and of this
be assured, that no consideration whatever would induce me to blazon
forth my attachment in the eyes of the world, did I not feel fully
assured that when all is made clear, and every cloud blown away, I
shall stand forth not unworthy of the affection of such a heart as
yours--not unqualified, even in point of wealth and the world's
esteem, to seek your hand."
"As to wealth," said Maria, smiling, "that need be no consideration,
Henry. I have enough, and more than enough, for both; and I suppose,
of course, that when you resume your real name and station, you will
resign the fortune which you hold as Frank Middleton."
"I do not know," answered Henry. "That fortune was not obtained by any
deceit. He who left it to me knew right well that I was not Frank
Middleton, and I can prove that such was the case. However, that will
be a matter for after consideration; though, were I to do as you say,
Mr. Scriven would undoubtedly exclaim loudly against your marrying a
beggar, though he might not be able to prove that you were marrying a
felon. But what say you, Maria?" he continued gaily. "Might we not
pursue another course? Might you not give this dear little hand to
Colonel Middleton, great-nephew of a grandee of Spain? Might you not
go with him to that bright, sunshiny land, and spend the rest of life
amidst groves of oranges and myrtles, by the side of clear streams,
with the cork-tree spreading out its broad, rugged branches overhead,
and the wild blue mountains falling into every fanciful form against
the distant sky? There, amidst the marble palaces of races long passed
away, with minaret, and dome, and fretted arch, and fountains
sparkling, in the sun, the breeze loaded with fragrance, and the night
sky gemmed with lustrous stars, life might fly away like a summer
dream, and all the dark: realities in the fate of Henry Hayley be
forgotten."
"You are mocking me even now, Henry," said Maria, shaking her head.
"Do not put such a question to me again, unless you put it seriously;
and if ever you should do so, I will take two minutes to consider, and
then give you an answer. But, hark! there is my aunt Fleetwood: I know
her servant's knock."
"Well, then, remember, dear Maria," said Henry, "that to her as well
as to others I may behave strangely. Nor be you surprised at anything
you may see, nor think that I am changed except in mere appearances.
All will be fully explained in time, and in the mean while, dear
Maria, trust me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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