Almont, my daughter has received a most
unaccountable letter which I wish to read to you, hoping you may be able
to explain it.' The paleness which overspread his countenance on hearing
my father's words put to flight the hope I had cherished that he would
be able to prove the letter a falsehood. Without any further remark, my
father read the letter to him, word for word. As he concluded he
said,--'And now, Mr. Almont, unless you are prepared to prove the
information contained in this letter to be untrue, I wish you
immediately to leave my dwelling, and, if you take my advice, you will
also leave this village, for I cannot abide the sight of a wretch such
as this letter proves you to be, and your silence be as testimony to its
truth. Begone! I say, from the humble, but, heretofore, happy home,
which your baseness has darkened by sorrow.' As my father uttered these
words, he stamped with his foot, and pointed to the door. Without a
word, Mr. Almont left the house, and on the day following, we learned
that he had left Littleton, and gone no one knew whither. Many surmises
arose concerning his sudden departure, for it was well known that we
were engaged to be married, but no one had any knowledge of the facts of
the matter.
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