The Forlorn Hope: A Novel (Vol. 2 of 2)Yates, Edmund
General
The Forlorn Hope: A Novel (Vol. 2 of 2)
Yates, Edmund
Fiction
THE FORLORN HOPE.
A NOVEL.
BY
EDMUND YATES,
AUTHOR OF "LAND AT LAST," "BROKEN TO HARNESS," ETC.
_COPYRIGHT EDITION_.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LEIPZIG
BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ.
1867.
_The Right of Translation is reserved_.
CONTENTS
OF VOLUME. II.
CHAPTER I. Nothing like Wilmot.
II. Another Turn of the Screw.
III. A Coup manqué.
IV. Madeleine awakes.
V. At our Minister's.
VI. The Gulf fixed.
VII. Henrietta.
VIII. Mrs. Ramsay Caird at Home.
IX. Inquisitorial.
X. Against the Grain.
XI. Iconoclastic.
XII. Too Late.
XIII. Quand même!
XIV. Forlorn.
THE FORLORN HOPE.
CHAPTER I.
Nothing like Wilmot.
Mr. Foljambe did not easily throw off the painful impression which his
interview with Chudleigh Wilmot had made upon him. The old gentleman
had always found Wilmot, though not an expansive, a singularly frank
person; he had not indeed ever spoken much to him concerning his wife
or his domestic affairs generally; but men do not do so habitually;
and the men to whom their wives are most dear and important rarely
mention them at all. The circumstance had therefore made no impression
upon Mr. Foljambe, himself a confirmed old bachelor, who, though very
kind and considerate to women and children, regarded them rather as
ornamental trifles, with a tendency to degenerate into nuisances, than
otherwise.
He began by wondering why Wilmot should have been so thoroughly upset
by his wife's death, and went on to speculate how long that very
unexpected and undesirable result might be likely to last. Becoming
sanguine and comparatively cheerful at this point, he made up his mind
that Chudleigh would get over it before long. Perhaps all had not gone
very smooth with the Wilmots. Not that he had any particular reason to
think so; but Wilmot was not a remarkably domestic man, and there
might be perhaps a little spice of self-reproach in his sorrow. At all
events, it would not last; _that_ might be looked upon as certain. In
the mean time, and in order that the world might not think Wilmot's
conduct silly, sentimental, or mysterious, Mr. Foljambe would be
beforehand with the gossips and the curious, and, by assigning to his
absence from England a motive in which the interests of his profession
and those of his health should be combined, prevent the risk of its
being imputed to anything so _rococo_ as deep feeling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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