The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy ChainYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
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The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy Chain
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Trials (Murder) -- Fiction
Mary could not but be pleased with her, officious as she was. It
looked as if she had more genuine feeling for Henry than had been
suspected, and the kindness was certain, though some of it might be the
busy activity of a not very delicate nature, eager for the importance
conferred by intimacy with the subjects of a great calamity. Probably
she would have been gratified by the eclat of being the beloved of the
brother of the youth whose name was in every mouth, and her real
goodness and benevolent heart would have committed her affections and
interest beyond recall to the Ward family, had Averil leant upon her,
or had Henry exerted himself to take advantage of her advances.
But Henry's attachment had probably not been love, for it seemed
utterly crushed out of him by his shame and despair. Everything
connected with his past life was hateful to him; he declared that he
could never show his face at Stoneborough again, let the result be what
it might--that he could never visit another patient, and that he should
change his name and leave the country, beginning on that very Sunday
afternoon to write a letter to his principal rival to negotiate the
sale of his practice.
In fact, his first impression had returned on him, and though he never
disclaimed belief in Leonard's statement, the entire failure of all
confirmation convinced him that the blow had been struck by his brother
in sudden anger, and that, defend him as he might and would, the stain
was on his house, and the guilt would be brought home.
Resolved, however, to do his utmost, he went with Mr. Bramshaw for a
consultation with Leonard on the Monday. Averil could not go. She
rose and dressed, and remained resolute till nearly the last minute,
when her feverish faint giddiness overpowered her, and she was forced
to submit to lie on the sofa, under Minna's care; and there she lay,
restless and wretched, till wise little Minna sent a message up to the
High Street, which brought down Mary and Dr. Spencer. They found her
in a state of nervous fever, that sentenced her to her bed, where Mary
deposited her and watched over her, till her brother's return, more
desponding than ever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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