The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)Lever, Charles
History
The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)
Lever, Charles
Ireland -- History -- 1800-1837 -- Fiction; Ireland -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“I understand you, young lady. I am to send you back to your father's
house as one whose presence here was too dangerous, whose attractions
could only be resisted by means of absence and distance. A very
interesting martyrdom might have been made of it, I 've no doubt, and
even some speculation as to the conduct of a young gentleman so suddenly
bereaved of the object of his affections. But all this is much too
dignified for me. _My_ son shall be taught to respect himself without
the intervention of any contrivance.”
[Illustration: 256]
As she uttered the last words, she arose and approached the bell.
“Your Ladyship surely is not going--”
“I am going to send for Captain Martin, Miss Henderson.”
“Do not, I entreat of you,--I implore your Ladyship,” cried Kate, with
her clasped hands trembling as she spoke.
“This agitation is not without a cause, and would alone decide me to
call for my son.”
“If I have ever deserved well at your hands, my Lady,--if I have served
you faithfully in anything,--if my devotion has lightened you of one
care, or aided you through one difficulty,--spare me, oh, spare me, I
beseech you, this--degradation!”
“I have a higher consideration to consult here, Miss Henderson, than
any which can have reference to you.” She pulled the bell violently, and
while her hand still held the cord, the servant entered. “Tell Captain
Martin to come here,” said she, and sat down.
Kate leaned her arm upon the chimney-piece, and, resting her head on it,
never uttered a word.
For several minutes the silence was unbroken on either side. At last
Lady Dorothea started suddenly, and said,--“We cannot receive Captain
Martin here.”
“Your Ladyship is full of consideration,” said Kate, bitterly. “For a
moment I had thought it was only an additional humiliation to which you
had destined me.”
“Follow me into the drawing-room, Miss Henderson,” said Lady Dorothea,
proudly, as she left the room. And with slow, submissive mien Kate
quitted the chamber, and walked after her.
Scarcely had the door of the drawing-room been closed upon them than it
was re-opened to admit Captain Martin. He was booted and spurred for
his afternoon canter, and seemed in no wise pleased at the sudden
interruption to his project.
“They said you wanted me,” cried he; “and here have I been searching for
you in your dressing-room, and all over the house.”
“I desire to speak with you,” said she, proudly; and she motioned to a
chair.
“I trust the _séance_ is to be a brief one, otherwise I 'll beg a
postponement,” said he, half laughingly. Then turning his glance towards
Kate, he remarked for the first time the deathlike color of her face,
and an expression of repressed suffering that all her self-control
could not conceal. “Has anything happened? What is it?” said he, in a
half-whisper.
But she never replied, nor even seemed to heed his question.
“Tell me, I beseech you,” cried he, turning to Lady Dorothea,--“tell me,
has anything gone wrong?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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