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Updated: June 29, 2025
Oh, strange human heart! no epic ever written achieves the Sublime and the Beautiful which are graven, unread by human eye, in thy secret leaves. Of whom else should he beg? His mother had nothing, Riccabocca was poor, and the stately Violante, who had exclaimed, "Would that I were a man! " he could not endure the thought that she should pity him and despise. The Avenels! No, thrice No.
I never thought he would make his fortune; but the Avenels are a clever set. Do you remember poor Nora the Rose of Lansmere, as they called her? Ah, no, I think she went up to Lunnun afore your time, sir." "Humph!" said the parson, dryly. "Well, I think you may take away now. It will be dark soon, and I'll just stroll out and look about me." "There's a nice tart coming, sir."
The Avenels believed her still with Lady Jane Horton. He now grew most seriously alarmed; and in the midst of that alarm, Levy secretly contrived that he should be arrested for debt; but he was not detained in confinement many days. Before the disgrace got wind, the writs were discharged, Levy baffled. He was free.
They tell me he is one of the Avenels, a born Blue; is it possible?" "I have come here on that business. As a peer you cannot, of course, interfere; but I propose, with your leave, to go down myself to Lansmere, and undertake the superintendence of, the election. It would be better, perhaps, if you were not present; it would give us more liberty of action."
Nora had died in giving birth to a child, died delirious. In her delirium she had spoken of shame, of disgrace; there was no holy nuptial ring on her finger. Through all her grief, the first thought of Mrs. Avenel was to save the good name of her lost daughter, the unblemished honour of all the living Avenels.
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