And when my
father died I could hardly consider it other than a blessing, for he
had never shown himself a father, but always only as a harsh,
tyrannical master to me."
"But you were married?"
"Married!" said Catharine, with a melancholy smile. "That is to say,
my father sold me to a gouty old man, on whose couch I spent a few
comfortless, awfully wearisome years, till Lord Neville made me a
rich widow. But what did my independence avail me, when I had bound
myself in new fetters? Hitherto I had been the slave of my father,
of my husband; now I was the slave of my wealth. I ceased to be a
sick-nurse to become steward of my estate. Ah! this was the most
tedious period of my life. And yet I owe to it my only real
happiness, for at that period I became acquainted with you, my Jane,
and my heart, which had never yet learned to know a tenderer
feeling, flew to you with all the impetuosity of a first passion.
Believe me, my Jane, when this long-missing nephew of my husband
came and snatched away from me his hereditary estate, and, as the
lord, took possession of it, then the thought that I must leave you
and your father, the neighboring proprietor, was my only grief. Men
commiserated me on account of my lost property. I thanked God that
He had relieved me of this load, and I started for London, that I
might at last live and feel, that I might learn to know real
happiness or real misery."
"And what did you find?"
"Misery, Jane, for I am queen.
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