A Terrible Temptation (Fiscle Part 3) by Charles Reade (motivational books for men TXT) 📖
- Author: Charles Reade
Book online «A Terrible Temptation (Fiscle Part 3) by Charles Reade (motivational books for men TXT) 📖». Author Charles Reade
The Morning-Room Of A Large House In Portman Square, London.
A Gentleman In The Prime Of Life Stood With His Elbow On The Broad
Mantel-Piece, And Made Himself Agreeable To A Young Lady, Seated A
Little Way Off, Playing At Work.
To The Ear He Was Only Conversing, But His Eyes Dwelt On Her With
Loving Admiration All The Time. Her Posture Was Favorable To This
Furtive Inspection, For She Leaned Her Fair Head Over Her Work With A
Pretty, Modest, Demure Air, That Seemed To Say, "I Suspect I Am Being
Admired: I Will Not Look To See: I Might Have To Check It."
The Gentleman's Features Were Ordinary, Except His Brow--That Had Power
In It--But He Had The Beauty Of Color; His Sunburned Features Glowed
With Health, And His Eye Was Bright. On The Whole, Rather Good-Looking
When He Smiled, But Ugly When He Frowned; For His Frown Was A Scowl,
And Betrayed A Remarkable Power Of Hating.
Miss Arabella Bruce Was A Beauty. She Had Glorious Masses Of Dark Red
Hair, And A Dazzling White Neck To Set It Off; Large, Dove-Like Eyes,
And A Blooming Oval Face, Which Would Have Been Classical If Her Lips
Had Been Thin And Finely Chiseled; But Here Came In Her Anglo-Saxon
Breed, And Spared Society A Minerva By Giving Her Two Full And Rosy
Lips. They Made A Smallish Mouth At Rest, But Parted Ever So Wide When
They Smiled, And Ravished The Beholder With Long, Even Rows Of Dazzling
White Teeth.
Part 3 Chapter 1 Pg 2
Her Figure Was Tall And Rather Slim, But Not At All Commanding. There
Are People Whose Very Bodies Express Character; And This Tall, Supple,
Graceful Frame Of Bella Bruce Breathed Womanly Subservience; So Did Her
Gestures. She Would Take Up Or Put Down Her Own Scissors Half Timidly,
And Look Around Before Threading Her Needle, As If To See Whether Any
Soul Objected. Her Favorite Word Was "May I?" With A Stress On The
"May," And She Used It Where Most Girls Would Say "I Will," Or Nothing,
And Do It.
Mr. Richard Bassett Was In Love With Her, And Also Conscious That Her
Fifteen Thousand Pounds Would Be A Fine Addition To His Present Income,
Which Was Small, Though His Distant Expectations Were Great. As He Had
Known Her But One Month, And She Seemed Rather Amiable Than
Inflammable, He Had The Prudence To Proceed By Degrees; And That Is
Why, Though His Eyes Gloated On Her, He Merely Regaled Her With The
Gossip Of The Day, Not Worth Recording Here. But When He Had Actually
Taken His Hat To Go, Bella Bruce Put Him A Question That Had Been On
Her Mind The Whole Time, For Which Reason She Had Reserved It To The
Very Last Moment.
"Is Sir Charles Bassett In Town?" Said She, Mighty Carelessly, But
Bending A Little Lower Over Her Embroidery.
"Don't Know," Said Richard Bassett, With Such A Sudden Brevity And
Asperity That Miss Bruce Looked Up And Opened Her Lovely Eyes. Mr.
Richard Bassett Replied To This Mute Inquiry, "We Don't Speak." Then,
After A Pause, "He Has Robbed Me Of My Inheritance."
"Oh, Mr. Bassett!"
"Yes, Miss Bruce, The Bassett And Huntercombe Estates Were Mine By
Right Of Birth. My Father Was The Eldest Son, And They Were Entailed On
Him. But Sir Charles's Father Persuaded My Old, Doting Grandfather To
Cut Off The Entail, And Settle The Estates On Him And His Heirs; And So
They Robbed Me Of Every Acre They Could. Luckily My Little Estate Of
Highmore Was Settled On My Mother And Her Issue Too Tight For The
Villains To Undo."
These Harsh Expressions, Applied To His Own Kin, And The Abruptness And
Heat They Were Uttered With, Surprised And Repelled His Gentle
Listener. She Shrank A Little Away From Him. He Observed It. She
Replied Not To His Words, But To Her Own Thought:
"But, After All, It Does Seem Hard." She Added, With A Little Fervor,
"But It Wasn't Poor Sir Charles's Doing, After All."
"He Is Content To Reap The Benefit," Said Richard Bassett, Sternly.
Then, Finding He Was Making A Sorry Impression, He Tried To Get Away
From The Subject. I Say Tried, For Till A Man Can Double Like A Hare He
Will Never Get Away From His Hobby. "Excuse Me," Said He; "I Ought
Never To Speak About It. Let Us Talk Of Something Else. You Cannot
Enter Into My Feelings; It Makes My Blood Boil. Oh, Miss Bruce! You
Can't Conceive What A Disinherited Man Feels--And I Live At The Very
Part 3 Chapter 1 Pg 3Door: His Old Trees, That Ought To Be Mine, Fling Their Shadows Over My
Little Flower Beds; The Sixty Chimneys Of Huntercombe Hall Look Down On
My Cottage; His Acres Of Lawn Run Up To My Little Garden, And Nothing
But A Ha-Ha Between Us."
"It _Is_ Hard," Said Miss Bruce, Composedly; Not That She Entered Into
A Hardship Of This Vulgar Sort, But It Was Her Nature To Soothe And
Please People.
"Hard!" Cried Richard Bassett, Encouraged By Even This Faint Sympathy;
"It Would Be Unendurable But For One Thing--I Shall Have My Own Some
Day."
"I Am Glad Of That," Said The Lady; "But How?"
"By Outliving The Wrongful Heir."
Miss Bruce Turned Pale. She Had Little Experience Of Men's Passions.
"Oh, Mr. Bassett!" Said She--And There Was Something Pure And Holy In
The Look Of Sorrow And Alarm She Cast On The Presumptuous
Speaker--"Pray Do Not Cherish Such Thoughts. They Will Do You Harm. And
Remember Life And Death Are Not In Our Hands. Besides--"
"Well?"'
"Sir Charles Might--"
"Well?"
"Might He Not--Marry--And Have Children?" This With More Hesitation And
A Deeper Blush Than Appeared Absolutely Necessary.
"Oh, There's No Fear Of That. Property Ill-Gotten Never Descends.
Charles Is A Worn-Out Rake. He Was Fast At Eton--Fast At Oxford--Fast
In London. Why, He Looks Ten Years Older Than I, And He Is Three Years
Younger. He Had A Fit Two Years Ago. Besides, He Is Not A Marrying Man.
Bassett And Huntercombe Will Be Mine. And Oh! Miss Bruce, If Ever They
Are Mine--"
"Sir Charles Bassett!" Trumpeted A Servant At The Door; And Then
Waited, Prudently, To Know Whether His Young Lady, Whom He Had Caught
Blushing So Red With One Gentleman, Would Be At Home To Another.
"Wait A Moment," Said Miss Bruce To Him. Then, Discreetly Ignoring What
Bassett Had Said Last, And Lowering Her Voice Almost To A Whisper, She
Said, Hurriedly: "You Should Not Blame Him For The Faults Of Others.
There--I Have Not Been Long Acquainted With Either, And Am Little
Entitled To Inter--But It Is Such A Pity You Are Not Friends. He Is
Very Good, I Assure You, And Very Nice. Let Me Reconcile You Two. _May_
I?"
This Well-Meant Petition Was Uttered Very Sweetly; And, Indeed--If I
May Be Permitted--In A Way To Dissolve A Bear.
Part 3 Chapter 1 Pg 4
But This Was Not A Bear, Nor Anything Else That Is Placable; It Was A
Man With A Hobby Grievance; So He Replied In Character:
"That Is Impossible So Long As He Keeps Me Out Of My Own." He Had The
Grace, However, To Add, Half Sullenly, "Excuse Me; I Feel I Have Been
Too Vehement."
Miss Bruce, Thus Repelled, Answered, Rather Coldly:
"Oh, Never Mind _That;_ It Was Very Natural.--I Am At Home, Then," Said
She To The Servant.
Mr. Bassett Took The Hint, But Turned At The Door, And Said, With No
Little Agitation, "I Was Not Aware He Visits You. One Word--Don't Let
His Ill-Gotten Acres Make You Quite Forget The Disinherited One." And
So He Left Her, With An Imploring Look.
She Felt Red With All This, So She Slipped Out At Another Door, To Cool
Her Cheeks And Imprison A Stray Curl For Sir Charles.
He Strolled Into The Empty Room, With The Easy, Languid Air Of Fashion.
His Features Were Well Cut, And Had Some Nobility; But His Sickly
Complexion And The Lines Under His Eyes Told A Tale Of Dissipation. He
Appeared Ten Years Older Than He Was, And Thoroughly _Blase._
Yet When Miss Bruce Entered The Room With A Smile And A Little Blush,
He Brightened Up And Looked Handsome, And Greeted Her With Momentary
Warmth.
After The Usual Inquiries She Asked Him If He Had Met Any Body.
"Where?"
"Here; Just Now."
"No."
"What, Nobody At All?"
"Only My Sulky Cousin; I Don't Call Him Anybody," Drawled Sir Charles,
Who Was Now Relapsing Into His Normal Condition Of Semi-Apathy.
"Oh," Said Miss Bruce Gayly, "You Must Expect Him To Be A Little Cross.
It Is Not So Very Nice To Be Disinherited, Let Me Tell You."
"And Who Has Disinherited The Fellow?"
"I Forget; But You Disinherited Him Among You. Never Mind; It Can't Be
Helped Now. When Did You Come Back To Town? I Didn't See You At Lady
D'arcy's Ball, Did I?"
"You Did Not, Unfortunately For Me; But You Would If I Had Known You
Were To Be There. But About Richard: He May Tell You What He Likes, But
He Was Not Disinherited; He Was Bought Out. The Fact Is, His Father Was
Part 3 Chapter 1 Pg 5Uncommonly Fast. My Grandfather Paid His Debts Again And Again; But At
Last The Old Gentleman Found He Was Dealing With The Jews For His
Reversion. Then There Was An Awful Row. It Ended In My Grandfather
Outbidding The Jews. He Bought The Reversion Of His Estate From His Own
Son For A Large Sum Of Money (He Had To Raise It By Mortgages);
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