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Updated: June 5, 2025
Perhaps if I had, I should find a sort of pleasure in sacrificing myself. There were some new novels on the table; Amy took up a volume presently, and glanced over a page or two. 'I don't know how you can go on reading that sort of stuff, book after book, she exclaimed. 'Oh, but people say this last novel of Markland's is one of his best. 'Best or worst, novels are all the same.
Of that she knew but little; and, so far as its success or failure had power to affect her, experienced but little anxiety. On this account, her trouble was all for him. Time progressed until the period of Markland's departure was near at hand. He had watched, painfully, the slow progress of change in Fanny's state of mind. There was yet no satisfactory aspect.
He was close to them, on Lady Markland's other side, before they heard anything. The mother and son looked up simultaneously, and started as if they were but one being. At the sight of him she gave a faint cry, "Theo!" and he unclasped her arm and slid from her in a moment: which, though it was what he wished, made the fire burn still higher in Warrender's heart.
Presently the manner in which the child calculated upon her, ignoring every personal claim of hers, awoke a little spark in Lady Markland's breast. Even now it seemed guilt in her that she should have calculations of her own. And as for saying anything to him on the subject, how could she do it? It was impossible.
Markland stood still and gazed after him until his figure passed from sight. The impression this incident made upon him was unpleasant. The person of the stranger was so much hidden by trees, that he could make out no resemblance whatever. It was near that part of Mr. Markland's grounds known as the Fountain Grove, where this occurred, and the man, to all appearance, had been there.
Behind was certain destruction; while beyond the dark obscurity, the golden land of promise smiled ever in the glittering sunshine. MR. MARKLAND'S determination to visit the scene of the Company's operations was no suddenly-formed impulse; and the manifest desire that he should not do so, exhibited by Mr.
Not a going from one point in space to another, but a progression of the spirit in the way of life eternal." "You said just now, Agnes, that you were no philosopher." Mr. Markland's voice had lost much of its firmness. "But what would I not give to possess some of your philosophy.
It is said by some that he more than fancies the daughter. As he is rich, and of good reputation and appearance, he may be a dangerous rival." About a week later, Leach wrote: "This Willet, of whom I spoke, is the owner of an elegant seat not far from Markland's. He resides with his mother and sisters, who are especial favourites among all the neighbours. Next week they give a large party.
This was the confusion of thought in Lady Markland's mind while she sat by her writing-table among her papers, turning them over with nervous hands, now opening, now closing again the letters to which she could give no attention; letters, a cool observer might have said, much more important than a question of a foolish young fellow's love.
He saw how evil affections, when permitted to dwell therein, became its enemies and tormentors; and how, just in the degree that kind and good affections gained entrance, there was peace, tranquility and satisfaction. "I have looked into my own heart," he said, on awaking. The incident of the child, and the dream that followed, were, in Providence, sent for Markland's instruction.
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