East Lynne [1]
an enormous mass of papers which strewed the library table. His thoughts were back in the past. That was a foolish match of his, that Gretna Green match for love, foolish so far as prudence went; but the countess had been an affectionate wife to him, had borne with his follies and his neglect, had been an admirable mother to their only child. One child alone had been theirs, and in her thirteenth year the countess had died. If they had but been blessed with a son--the earl moaned over the long-continued disappointment still--he might have seen a way out of his difficulties. The boy, as soon as he was of age, would have joined with him in cutting off the entail, and----
"My lord," said a servant entering the room and interrupting the earl's castles in the air, "a gentleman is asking to see you."
"Who?" cried the earl, sharply, not perceiving the card the man was bringing. No unknown person, although wearing the externals of a foreign ambassador, was ever admitted unceremoniously to the presence of Lord Mount Severn. Years of duns had taught the servants caution.
"His card is here, my lord. It is Mr. Carlyle, of West Lynne."
"Mr. Carlyle, of West Lynne," groaned the earl, whose foot just then had an awful twinge, "what does he want? Show him up."
The servant did as he was bid, and introduced Mr. Carlyle. Look at the visitor well, reader, for he will play his part in this history. He was a very tall man of seven and twenty, of remarkably noble presence. He was somewhat given to stooping his head when he spoke to any one shorter than himself; it was a peculiar habit, almost to be called a bowing habit, and his father had possessed it before him. When told of it he would laugh, and say he was unconscious of doing it. His features were good, his complexion was pale and clear, his hair dark, and his full eyelids drooped over his deep gray eyes. Altogether it was a countenance that both men and women liked to look upon--the index of an honorable, sincere nature--not that it would have been called a handsome face, so much as a pleasing and a distinguished one. Though but the son of a country lawyer, and destined to be a lawyer himself, he had received the training of a gentleman, had been educated at Rugby, and taken his degree at Oxford. He advanced at once to the earl, in the straightforward way of a man of business--of a man who has come on business.
"Mr. Carlyle," said the latter, holding out his hand--he was always deemed the most affable peer of the age--"I am happy to see you. You perceive I cannot rise, at least without great pain and inconvenience. My enemy, the gout, has possession of me again. Take a seat. Are you staying in town?"
"I have just arrived from West Lynne. The chief object of my journey was to see your lordship."
"What can I do for you?" asked the earl, uneasily; for a suspicion had crossed his mind that Mr. Carlyle might be acting for some one of his many troublesome creditors.
Mr. Carlyle drew his chair nearer to the earl, and spoke in a low tone,--
"A rumor came to my ears, my lord, that East Lynne was in the market."
"A moment, sir," exclaimed the earl, with reserve, not to say hauteur in his tone, for his suspicions were gaining ground; "are we to converse confidentially together, as men of honor, or is there something concealed behind?"
"I do not understand you," said Mr. Carlyle.
"In a word--excuse my speaking plainly, but I must feel my ground--are you here on the part of some of my rascally creditors, to pump information out of me, that otherwise they would not get?"
"My lord," uttered the visitor, "I should be incapable of so dishonorable an action. I know that a lawyer gets credit for possessing but lax notions on the score of honor, but you can scarcely suspect that I should be guilty of underhand work toward you. I never was guilty of a mean trick in my life, to my recollection, and I do not think I ever shall be."
"Pardon me, Mr. Carlyle. If you knew half the tricks and /ruses/ played upon me, you would not wonder at my suspecting all the world. Proceed
"My lord," said a servant entering the room and interrupting the earl's castles in the air, "a gentleman is asking to see you."
"Who?" cried the earl, sharply, not perceiving the card the man was bringing. No unknown person, although wearing the externals of a foreign ambassador, was ever admitted unceremoniously to the presence of Lord Mount Severn. Years of duns had taught the servants caution.
"His card is here, my lord. It is Mr. Carlyle, of West Lynne."
"Mr. Carlyle, of West Lynne," groaned the earl, whose foot just then had an awful twinge, "what does he want? Show him up."
The servant did as he was bid, and introduced Mr. Carlyle. Look at the visitor well, reader, for he will play his part in this history. He was a very tall man of seven and twenty, of remarkably noble presence. He was somewhat given to stooping his head when he spoke to any one shorter than himself; it was a peculiar habit, almost to be called a bowing habit, and his father had possessed it before him. When told of it he would laugh, and say he was unconscious of doing it. His features were good, his complexion was pale and clear, his hair dark, and his full eyelids drooped over his deep gray eyes. Altogether it was a countenance that both men and women liked to look upon--the index of an honorable, sincere nature--not that it would have been called a handsome face, so much as a pleasing and a distinguished one. Though but the son of a country lawyer, and destined to be a lawyer himself, he had received the training of a gentleman, had been educated at Rugby, and taken his degree at Oxford. He advanced at once to the earl, in the straightforward way of a man of business--of a man who has come on business.
"Mr. Carlyle," said the latter, holding out his hand--he was always deemed the most affable peer of the age--"I am happy to see you. You perceive I cannot rise, at least without great pain and inconvenience. My enemy, the gout, has possession of me again. Take a seat. Are you staying in town?"
"I have just arrived from West Lynne. The chief object of my journey was to see your lordship."
"What can I do for you?" asked the earl, uneasily; for a suspicion had crossed his mind that Mr. Carlyle might be acting for some one of his many troublesome creditors.
Mr. Carlyle drew his chair nearer to the earl, and spoke in a low tone,--
"A rumor came to my ears, my lord, that East Lynne was in the market."
"A moment, sir," exclaimed the earl, with reserve, not to say hauteur in his tone, for his suspicions were gaining ground; "are we to converse confidentially together, as men of honor, or is there something concealed behind?"
"I do not understand you," said Mr. Carlyle.
"In a word--excuse my speaking plainly, but I must feel my ground--are you here on the part of some of my rascally creditors, to pump information out of me, that otherwise they would not get?"
"My lord," uttered the visitor, "I should be incapable of so dishonorable an action. I know that a lawyer gets credit for possessing but lax notions on the score of honor, but you can scarcely suspect that I should be guilty of underhand work toward you. I never was guilty of a mean trick in my life, to my recollection, and I do not think I ever shall be."
"Pardon me, Mr. Carlyle. If you knew half the tricks and /ruses/ played upon me, you would not wonder at my suspecting all the world. Proceed