But
there had been so many previous mistakes! And they, too, had heard
of Mr. John Morton. They too were a little afraid of Arabella
though she was undoubtedly the niece of a Duke.
She was aware now,--as always,--how much depended on her personal
bearing; but this was a moment of moments! She would fain have kept
the letter, and have opened it in the retirement of her own room.
She knew its terrible importance, and was afraid of her own
countenance when she should read it. All the hopes of her life were
contained in that letter. But were she to put it in her pocket she
would betray her anxiety by doing so. She found herself bound to
open it and read it at once,--and she did open it and read it.
After all it was what she had expected. It was very decided, very
short, very cold, and carrying with it no sign of weakness. But it
was of such a letter that she had thought when she resolved that
she would apply to Lord Mistletoe, and endeavour to put the whole
family of Trefoil in arms. She had been,--so she had assured
herself,--quite sure that that kind, loving response which she had
solicited, would not be given to her. But yet the stern fact, now
that it was absolutely in her hands, almost overwhelmed her. She
could not restrain the dull dead look of heart-breaking sorrow
which for a few moments clouded her face,--a look which took away
all her beauty, lengthening her cheeks, and robbing her eyes of
that vivacity which it was the task of her life to assume.
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