This stately girl of whom the countryside spoke as of some wondrous
divinity, she had promised to become his wife; for him the warm kisses
of her lips, the declared secrets of her eloquent eyes, the passionate
ardor of her embraces. Yesterday he would have called himself a madman
to have dared the meanest of the hopes which now might be regarded with
equanimity. To-night he could recall them with that kind incredulity
which even attends the first hours of such an avowal as this. What act
or purpose of his life had brought him such a reward; why had she
deemed him worthy? he asked himself. He was neither a vain man nor a
fool. If he contemplated his good fortune with a just trepidation,
none the less he believed himself to merit it. She loved him, and
henceforth might claim his life. This was the whole lesson of the
first brief moments of delight.
Gavin was far too excited to think of returning to the Castle; nor had
he any wish to speak to the Earl until his own story presented itself
to him in some reasonably plausible shape. Under other circumstances,
he could have understood the anger and the impatience which such a
declaration might bring upon him; but these he did not expect at
Melbourne Hall. Robert Forrester seemed to him rather an aristocrat by
accident than by birth. He, himself, would not in any case consider
the dignity of his own life and calling as beneath that of one whose
ancestors had been the jest of London in the days of the Stuarts. He
had the right of an honored name, of considerable achievement, and of
his youth; and by these he claimed her. Moreover, the secrets of the
Hall were now his own; and he understood that the forgotten years
stalked as ghosts through the splendid chambers, speaking of passions
outlived and of the aftermath to be garnered from their fields. Father
and daughter alike were reaping that which had been sown in Bukharest
more than twenty years ago. From his just judgment, from her
birthright, it lay upon the stranger to save them. Gavin determined to
begin his work that very night.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account