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While Mrs Causand was on her visit, I always breakfasted with her tete-a-tete in the little parlour, whose French windows opened upon the garden; and it was on those occasions that I found her most amusing. She knew everyone and everything connected with fashionable life. Private and piquant, and I am sure authentic, anecdotes of every noble family, she possessed in an exhaustless profusion.
I believe, even after this pretended confession, that you are an impostor to me, as much as you are to the rest of the world. I now understand some things that were before dark to me. My life seems to stand in your way and your cowardice only prevents you from taking it. You tell me you are a forger these letters are forgeries. Mrs Causand is not my mother, nor are you my brother.
What Mrs Causand and I said to each other on the subject, when she went and seated herself in the summer-house to recover from her excitement, would, I am sure, have formed the groundwork and arguments of twelve good moral essays; but unfortunately I have forgotten everything about it, except that we stayed there till not only the dews had fallen upon the flowers, but the shades of evening upon the dews.
I entreated to be permitted to depart my intercessions were seconded by the young lady. But the now cold hand of Mrs Causand clasped mine so tightly, and the expression of her eyes was so imploring, that I could not rudely break away from her. "But a few short minutes," she exclaimed, "and then fare you well. I feel worse than I ever yet remember and very cold.
You are but trying my affection you do but wish to witness the depth of my agony you would prove me but this is with a torture too cruel. Say oh, say my dear Mrs Causand, that you are trifling with me you you are now the only friend that I have upon earth!" "These emotions, my dear boy, will slay me outright the monster is now, even now, grappling with me give me your hand."
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