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Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"

I am about to contract an
advantageous marriage with a foreign lady of rank, wealth, and beauty,
to whom I hope soon to introduce you.. I need not mention her name, if
you are wise. Be patient and cheerful; cultivate your talents, and take
care of your good looks--no woman can afford to dispense with these,
however gifted; and you will soon find yourself as free as that
'chartered libertine' the air, for which last two words I am afraid you
will be malicious enough to substitute the name you will not find
appended, of your true friend and guardian, B.B."
Had Wentworth spoken, then? Did he know of my immurement? Was it his
beloved presence, his dear hand, that were to be made the prize of my
silence and submission? Was the bitter pill of humiliation I was now
swallowing to be gilded thus? No, no--a thousand times, no! He was not
the man with whom to make such conditions--the man I loved--nay
worshiped almost. He was of the old heroic mould, that would have
preferred any certainty to suspense, and death itself to an instant's
degradation.
He deemed me dead, and the obstacle that had risen between us needed no
explanation now. The waves had swallowed all necessities like this. But,
had he known me the inmate of a mad-house, no bolts or bars would have
withheld him from my presence. His own eyes could alone have convinced
him of such ruin as was alleged against me by these friends.


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