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I hold Miss Batchford accountable, Madame Pratolungo, for whatever happens my daughter is a mere instrument in the hands of my first wife's family. Give me your pulse, Mrs. Finch. I don't like your pulse. Come up-stairs directly. A recumbent position, and another warm bath under Providence, Madame Pratolungo! may parry the Blow. Would you kindly open the door, and pick up Mrs.
Oscar seemed to be wonderfully interested about my father. "Very little chance!" he repeated. "Why?" I was obliged to refer to the family quarrel still, however, saying nothing of the unjust manner in which my father had spoken of my aunt. "As long as I am with Miss Batchford," I said, "it is useless to hope that my father will come here.
During the short term of my absence from England, Miss Batchford would be left as ignorant of her niece's perilous position between the twin-brothers, as Lucilla herself. To know this was to have gained the information that I wanted. Nothing was left but to set my brains to work at once, and act on it. How was I to act on it? On the spur of the moment, I could see but one way.
Oscar, on his side, seems to like Miss Batchford on better acquaintance. When I first presented him to her, he rather surprised me by changing color and looking very uneasy. He is almost distressingly nervous, on certain occasions. I suppose my aunt's grand manner daunted him. I really must break in here. Her aunt's "grand manner" makes me sick.
In the interval before this happened, I entreated Miss Batchford, in her niece's interests, to consider my letter as a strictly private communication; adding, that my sufficient reason for venturing to make this condition would be found in my letter to Lucilla which I authorized her aunt to read as soon as the time had arrived for opening it.
In the turn things had taken, and with the short time still at my disposal, what was I to do next? Assuming that Miss Batchford would accompany her niece to Ramsgate, how could I put the necessary obstacle in Nugent's way, if he attempted to communicate with Lucilla at the sea-side, in my absence?
She was twenty years old, before her father's expectations were realized, and the money came of it at last. Uncle Batchford died a single man. He divided his fortune between his maiden sister, and his niece. When she came of age, Lucilla was to have an income of fifteen hundred pounds a year on certain conditions, which the will set forth at great length.
Dealt at me," repeated Mr. Are you sure you are well, my dear? are you sure the infant is well? Thank Providence! Concentrate your attention, Madame Pratolungo! Your attention is wandering. Prompted by Miss Batchford, my daughter has left my roof. Ramsgate is a mere excuse. And how has she left it? Not only without first seeing Me I am Nobody! but without showing the slightest sympathy for Mrs.
In either case, I shall be the sufferer: my aunt's sense of injury which cannot address itself to my father will find a convenient object to assail in me. I shall never hear the last of it. Being already nervous and dispirited, the prospect of finding myself involved in a new family quarrel quite daunts me. I feel ungratefully inclined to run away from Miss Batchford, when I think of it!
If Grosse pronounced Lucilla's recovery to be complete, before I returned from abroad, the best thing I could do would be to put Miss Batchford in a position to reveal the truth in my place without running any risk of a premature discovery. In other words, without letting the old lady into the secret, before the time arrived at which it could be safely divulged.
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