The International Monthly, Volume 2, No. 1, December, 1850Various
History
The International Monthly, Volume 2, No. 1, December, 1850
Various
Art, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- History -- Periodicals
He spoke with so much emotion, directed a look of such triumphant
significance upon his daughter, and pressed her hand so hard, that on a
sudden a stupendous conviction, at once horrible and dazzling, burst
upon her.
"Monsieur!--for the love of God do you mean--do you mean----?" she said,
and broke off abruptly.
"Yes, my dear Lucille," he returned with elation, "I _do_ mean to tell
you that you--_you_ are that fortunate person. It is true that you can
bring him no wealth, but he already possesses more of that than he knows
how to apply. You can, however, bring him what few other women possess,
an ancient lineage, an exquisite beauty, and the simplicity of an
education in which the seeds of finesse and dissipation have not been
sown, in short, the very attributes and qualifications which he most
esteems--which he has long sought, and which in conversation he has
found irresistible in you. Monsieur Le Prun has entreated me to lay his
proposals at your feet, and you of course convey through me the
gratitude with which you accept them."
Lucille was silent and pale; within her a war and chaos of emotions were
struggling, like the tumult of the ocean.
"I felicitate you, my child," said the Visconte, kissing her throbbing
forehead; "in you the fortunes of your family will be restored--come
with me."
She accompanied him into the cottage; she was walking, as it were, in a
wonderful dream; but amidst the confusion of her senses, her perplexity
and irresolution, there was a dull sense of pain at her heart, there was
a shadowy figure constantly before her; its presence agitated and
reproached her, but she had little leisure to listen to the pleadings of
a returning tenderness, even had they been likely to prevail with her
ambitious heart. Her father rapidly sketched such a letter of
complimentary acceptance as he conceived suitable to the occasion and
the parties.
"Read that," he said, placing it before Lucille. "Well, that I think
will answer. What say you, child?"
"Yes, sir," she replied with an effort; "it is true; he does me indeed
great honor; and--and I accept him; and now, sir, I would wish to go and
be for a while alone."
"Do so," said her father, again kissing her, for he felt a sort of
gratitude toward her as the prime cause of all those comforts and
luxuries, whose long despaired-of return he now beheld in immediate and
certain prospect. Not heeding this unwonted exuberance of tenderness,
she hurried to her little bed-room, and sat down upon the side of her
bed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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