Theresa Marchmont, or, the Maid of Honour: A TaleGore, Mrs. (Catherine Grace Frances)
General
Theresa Marchmont, or, the Maid of Honour: A Tale
Gore, Mrs. (Catherine Grace Frances)
Fiction
“Such were the arguments by which I strove to blind myself to my rising
passion for another, and to smother the self-reproaches which assailed
me when I first conceived the fatal project of imposing upon the world
by the supposed death of my wife, and of seeking your hand in marriage.
How often did the better feelings of my nature recoil from such an act
of villainy--how often was my project abandoned, how often resumed at
the alternate bidding of passion and of virtue! I will not repeat the
idle sophistry which served to complete my wilful blindness; nor dare
I degrade myself in your eyes by a confession of the tissue of
contemptible fraud and hypocrisy into which I was necessarily betrayed
by the execution of my dark designs. Oh! Helen--this heart of mine was
once honest, once good and true as thine own; but now there crawls not
on this earth a wretch whose lying lips have uttered falsehoods more
villainous than mine! and honour, the characteristic of the ancient
house I have disgraced, the best attribute of the high calling I have
polluted, is now a watchword of dismay to my ear.
“In Alice Wishart and her husband I found ready instruments for the
completion of my purpose; and indeed the difficulties which awaited
me were even fewer than I had first anticipated. The ravings of Lady
Greville, and her distracted addresses to the name of her lover had
inspired her attendants with a believe of her guiltiness, which in the
beginning of her illness I had vainly attempted to combat. It was not
therefore to be expected that these faithful adherents of my family,
who loved me with an almost parental devotion, and whose regret for
the extinction of the name of Greville was the ruling passion of their
breasts, should consider her an object worthy the sacrifice of my
entire happiness. The few scruples they exhibited were those rather of
expediency than of conscience were easily overcome. By their own desire
they removed to Greville Cross for the more ready furtherance of our
guilty plan; under pretence that the health of the unfortunate Theresa
required change of air. On their arrival they found it easy to impress
the servants of the establishment with a belief of her precarious state,
and the nature of her malady afforded them a plausible pretext for
secluding her from their observation and attendance. Accustomed to
receive from Alice a daily account of her declining condition, the
announcement of her death excited no surprise. In a few weeks after her
journey, a fictitious funeral completed our system of deception.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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