Now,--now at this moment, he told himself with
oaths that he had never loved any one but Violet Effingham.
There had been so much to make such a marriage desirable! I should
wrong my hero deeply were I to say that the weight of his sorrow was
occasioned by the fact that he had lost an heiress. He would never
have thought of looking for Violet Effingham had he not first learned
to love her. But as the idea opened itself out to him, everything
had seemed to be so suitable. Had Miss Effingham become his wife,
the mouths of the Lows and of the Bunces would have been stopped
altogether. Mr. Monk would have come to his house as his familiar
guest, and he would have been connected with half a score of peers.
A seat in Parliament would be simply his proper place, and even
Under-Secretaryships of State might soon come to be below him. He
was playing a great game, but hitherto he had played it with so much
success,--with such wonderful luck! that it had seemed to him that
all things were within his reach. Nothing more had been wanting to
him than Violet's hand for his own comfort, and Violet's fortune to
support his position; and these, too, had almost seemed to be within
his grasp. His goddess had indeed refused him,--but not with disdain.
Even Lady Laura had talked of his marriage as not improbable.
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