The Sorrows of Satan: or, The Strange Experience of One Geoffrey Tempest, Millionaire: A Romance
John Stuart Mill · en
Afterwards however, when he had gone, she turned to me with a grin
and remarked--"You saw me kiss Bertie, didn't you? I often do; he's
quite like my brother!" I made no reply,--I only smiled vaguely; and
the next day she sent me a valuable diamond ring, which I at once
returned to her with a prim little note, stating that I was much
obliged, but that my father considered me too young as yet to wear
diamonds. Why do I think of these trifles now I wonder!--now when I
am about to take my leave of life and all its lies! ... There is a
little bird singing outside my bedroom window,--such a pretty
creature! I suppose it is happy?--it should be, as it is not
human... The tears are in my eyes as I listen to its sweet
warbling, and think that it will be living and singing still to-day
at sunset when I am dead!
* * * * *
That last sentence was mere sentiment, for I am not sorry to die. If
I felt the least regret about it I should not carry out my
intention. I must resume my narrative,--for it is an analysis I am
trying to make of myself, to find out if I can whether there are no
excuses to be found for my particular disposition,--whether it is
not after all, the education and training I have had that have made
me what I am, or whether indeed I was born evil from the first. The
circumstances that surrounded me, did not, at any rate, tend to
soften or improve my character. I had just passed my seventeenth
birthday, when one morning my father called me into his library and
told me the true position of his affairs. I learned that he was
crippled on all sides with debt,--that he lived on advances made to
him by Jew usurers,--and that these advances were trusted to him
solely on the speculation that I, his only daughter, would make a
sufficiently rich marriage to enable him to repay all loans with
heavy interest. He went on to say that he hoped I would act
sensibly,--and that when any men showed indications of becoming
suitors for my hand, I would, before encouraging them, inform him,
in order that he might make strict enquiries as to their actual
extent of fortune. I then understood, for the first time, that I was
for sale. I listened in silence till he had finished,--then I asked
him--'Love, I suppose, is not to be considered in the matter?' He
laughed, and assured me it was much easier to love a rich man than a
poor one, as I would find out after a little experience. He added,
with some hesitation, that to help make both ends meet, as the
expenses of town life were considerable, he had arranged to take a
young American lady under his charge, a Miss Diana Chesney, who
wished to be introduced into English society, and who would pay two
thousand guineas a year to him for that privilege, and for Aunt
Charlotte's services as chaperône.