is in the spirit of
both that _I_ make a proposition to _you_.--Your friend is attached to
rank, fortune, and worldly advantages, in the usual proportion, at
least, in which they are pursued by men of the world--this you must
admit, and I will not offend you by supposing more."
"I know few people who do not desire such advantages," answered Captain
Jekyl; "and I frankly own, that he affects no particular degree of
philosophic indifference respecting them."
"Be it so," answered Tyrrel. "Indeed, the proposal you have just made
indicates that his pretended claim on this young lady's hand is
entirely, or almost entirely, dictated by motives of interest, since you
are of opinion that he would be contented to separate from her society
on the very marriage day, provided that, in doing so, he was assured of
the Nettlewood property."
"My proposition was unauthorized by my principal," answered Jekyl; "but
it is needless to deny, that its very tenor implies an idea, on my part,
that Lord Etherington is no passionate lover."
"Well then," answered Tyrrel. "Consider, sir, and let him consider well,
that the estate and rank he now assumes, depend upon my will and
pleasure--that, if I prosecute the claims of which that scroll makes you
aware, he must descend from the rank of an earl into that of a commoner,
stripped of by much the better half of his fortune--a diminution which
would be far from compensated by the estate of Nettlewood, even if he
could obtain it, which could only be by means of a lawsuit, precarious
in the issue, and most dishonourable in its very essence."
"Well, sir," replied Jekyl, "I perceive your argument--What is your
proposal?"
"That I will abstain from prosecuting my claim on those honours and that
property--that I will leave Valentine Bulmer in possession of his
usurped title and ill-deserved wealth--that I will bind myself under the
strongest penalties never to disturb his possession of the Earldom of
Etherington and estates belonging to it--on condition that he allows the
woman, whose peace of mind he has ruined for ever, to walk through the
world in her wretchedness, undisturbed either by his marriage-suit, or
by any claim founded upon his own most treacherous conduct--in short,
that he forbear to molest Clara Mowbray, either by his presence, word,
letter, or through the intervention of a third party, and be to her in
future as if he did not exist."
"This is a singular offer," said the Captai
|