And I did love
him. I shall never have the same confession to make to another man.
That he and I are not now,--on those loving terms,--which once
existed, can make no difference in that. A woman cannot transfer her
heart. There have been things which have made me feel,--that I was
perhaps mistaken,--in saying that I would be,--his wife. But I said
so, and cannot now give myself to another. Here is Lord Brentford,
and we will join him." There was Lord Brentford with Lady Laura on
his arm, very gloomy,--resolving on what way he might be avenged on
the man who had insulted his daughter. He took but little notice
of Phineas as he resumed his charge of Miss Effingham; but the two
ladies wished him good night.
"Good night, Lady Laura," said Phineas, standing with his hat in his
hand,--"good night, Miss Effingham." Then he was alone,--quite alone.
Would it not be well for him to go down to the bottom of the garden,
and fling himself into the quiet river, so that there might be an
end of him? Or would it not be better still that he should create
for himself some quiet river of life, away from London, away from
politics, away from lords, and titled ladies, and fashionable
squares, and the parties given by dukes, and the disappointments
incident to a small man in attempting to make for himself a career
among big men? There had frequently been in the mind of this young
man an idea that there was something almost false in his own
position,--that his life was a pretence, and that he would ultimately
be subject to that ruin which always comes, sooner or later, on
things which are false; and now as he wandered alone about Lady
Glencora's gardens, this feeling was very strong within his bosom,
and robbed him altogether of the honour and glory of having been one
of the Duke of Omnium's guests.
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