What—dost thou think I'll bend to thee?
The free in soul are ever free:
Nor force, nor poverty can bind
The subtle will—the thinking mind.
| Transcriber's Note: The Table of Contents is not contained in the book but has been created for the convenience of the reader of this etext. |
CHAPTER
"The next day, my friend bade us adieu. Had he expressed the leastwish to that effect, I would have accompanied him to the South—but hedid not, and we parted, never to meet again. He died abroad, andCharlotte became the inheritor of his large fortune. Her grief for theloss of her brother affected her health and spirits to such analarming degree, that instant change of air and scene was recommendedby her physician, and she left London to spend some months with heraunt on the Continent. I would have gladly made one in their party,but this she forbade me to do in the most positive terms.
"I fancied that her manner to me had grown cold and distant during theseparation which had intervened between her brother's death and thesevere illness that followed the announcement of that melancholyevent. These fears were confirmed by a long and very prudential letterfrom her aunt, entreating me, as a mutual friend, not to follow themto Italy, as it might be attended by unpleasant results to MissLaurie, who was still very young—too young, in her estimation, toacknowledge publicly an accepted lover; that as no actual engagementexisted between us, she thought it most advisable for both partiesonly to regard each other in the light of friends, until theexpiration of the time which would make Miss Laurie the mistress ofher hand and fortune. It was impossible to mistake the purport of thisletter, which I felt certain must have been sanctioned by her niece.Then, and not until then was I fully aware of all that I had lost bythe death of my poor frien