"
"I apprehend," continued the major, with a face of fire, "that Miss
Wharton has imbibed some opinions of me that would make a compliance
with your request irksome to her--opinions that it is now too late
to alter."
"No, no, no," cried Frances, quickly, "you are exonerated, Peyton--with
her dying breath she removed my doubts."
"Generous Isabella!" murmured Dunwoodie; "but, still, Henry, spare your
sister now; nay, spare even me."
"I speak in pity to myself," returned the brother, gently removing
Frances from the arms of her aunt. "What a time is this to leave two
such lovely females without a protector! Their abode is destroyed, and
misery will speedily deprive them of their last male friend," looking at
his father; "can I die in peace with the knowledge of the danger to
which they will be exposed?"
"You forget me," said Miss Peyton, shrinking at the idea of celebrating
nuptials at such a moment.
"No, my dear aunt, I forget you not, nor shall I, until I cease to
remember; but you forget the times and the danger. The good woman who
lives in this house has already dispatched a messenger for a man of God,
to smooth my passage to another world. Frances, if you would wish me to
die in peace, to feel a security that will allow me to turn my whole
thoughts to heaven, you will let this clergyman unite you to Dunwoodie.
Pages:
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499