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Braddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth), 1835-1915

"Fenton's Quest"

She considered only that he was her father, and
that they had found each other after long years of separation. She
stretched out her arms, and would have fallen upon his breast; but
something in his manner repelled her, something downcast and nervous,
which had a chilling effect upon her, and gave her time to remember how
little cause she had to love him. He did not seem aware of the
affectionate impulse which had moved her towards him at first. He gave
her his hand presently. It was deadly cold, and lay loosely in her own.
"I was asking my grandfather about you this morning," she said, wondering
at his strange manner, "but he would not tell me where you were."
"Indeed! I am surprised to find you felt so much interest in me; I'm
aware that I don't deserve as much. Yet I could plead plenty of excuses
for my life, if I cared to trouble you with them; but I don't. It would
be a long story; and when it was told, you might not believe it. Most men
are, more or less, the slave of circumstances. I have suffered that kind
of bondage all my life. I have known, too, that you were in good
hands--better off in every way than you could have been in my care--or I
should have acted differently in relation to you."
"There is no occasion to speak of the past," Marian replied gravely.
"Providence was very good to me; but I know my poor mother's last days
were full of sorrow.


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