He was alone. She thought herself the most childish of mortals
in supposing that she could have been summoned at midnight to declare her
sentiments, and hardly noticed his gloomy depression. He asked her to
give him five minutes; then asked her for a kiss, and told her to go to
bed and sleep. But Annette had seen that a great present affliction was
on him, and she would not be sent to sleep. She promised to listen
patiently, to bear anything, to be brave. "Is it bad news from home?" she
said, speaking of the old home where she had not left her heart, and
where his money was invested.
"It's this, my dear Netty," said Van Diemen, suffering her to lead him
into her sitting-room; "we shall have to leave the shores of England."
"Then we are ruined."
"We're not; the rascal can't do that. We might be off to the Continent,
or we might go to America; we've money. But we can't stay here. I'll not
live at any man's mercy."
"The Continent! America!" exclaimed the enthusiast for England. "Oh,
papa, you love living in England so!"
"Not so much as all that, my dear.
Pages:
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470