s he did in London, where his
simple mind was all abroad, and he knew not church from chapel. He
took his daughter for the wife of a lord, and so she took herself, poor
thing! when she was but his concubine. In 1809 such tricks were easily
played by villains upon young girls so simple.
"But he gave her attestation and certificate under his own hand; and
her poor father signed it, and saw it secured in a costly case, and then
went home as proud as need be for the father of a peer, but sworn to
keep it three years secret, till the king should give consent. Such foul
lies it was the pride of a lord to tell to a farmer.
"You do not exclaim--of course you do not. The instincts of your race
are in you, because you are legitimate. Those of the robbed side are in
me, because I am of the robbed. I am your father's elder brother. Which
is the worse, you proud young womam, the dastard or the bastard?"
"You have wrongs, most bitter wrongs," I answered, meeting fierce eyes
mildly; "but you should remember that I am guiltless of those wrongs,
and so was my father. And I think that if you talk of birth so, you must
know that gentlemen speak quietly to ladies."
"What concern is that of mine? A gentleman is some one's son. I am the
son of nobody. But to you I will speak quietly, for the sake of your
poor father. And you must listen quietly. I am not famous for sweet
temper. Well, this great lord took his toy to Paris, where he had her
at his mercy. She could not speak a word of French; she did not know a
single soul. In vain she prayed him to take her to his English home;
or, if not that, to restore her to her father. Not to be too long about
it--any more than he was--a few months were enough for him. He found
fault with her manners, with her speech, her dress, her every thing--all
which he had right, perhaps, to do, but should have used it earlier. And
she, although not born to the noble privilege of weariness, had been an
old man's darling, and could not put up with harshness. From words they
came to worse, until he struck her, told her of her shame, or rather
his own infamy, and left her among strangers, helpless, penniless, and
brokenhearted, to endure the consequence.
"There and thus I saw the light beneath most noble auspices. But I need
not go on with all that. As long as human rules remain, this happy tale
will always be repeated with immense applause. My mother's love was
turned to bitter hatred of his lordship, and, w
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