A Terrible Temptation (Fiscle Part 3) by Charles Reade (best ereader for manga TXT) 📕

The Sister Continued: "Some Malicious Person Went And Told The Young

Lady's Father The Gentleman Was In The Habit Of Visiting That Lady,  And

Would Be With Her At A Certain Hour. And So He Was; But It Was The

Lawyer's Appointment,  You Know. You Seem Agitated."

"No,  No; Not Agitated," Said Bella,  "But Astonished; It Is So Like A

Story I Know. A Young Lady,  A Friend Of Mine,  Had An Anonymous Letter,

Telling Her That One She Loved And Esteemed Was Unworthy. But What You

Have Told Me Shows Me How Deceitful Appearances May Be. What Was Your

Patient's Name?"

"It Is Against Our Rules To Tell That. But You Said An 'Anonymous

Letter.' Was Your Friend So Weak As To Believe An Anonymous Letter? The

Writer Of Such A Letter Is A Coward,  And A Coward Always Is A Liar.

Show Me Your Friend's Anonymous Letter. I May,  Perhaps,  Be Able To

Throw A Light On It."

The Conversation Was Interrupted By Admiral Bruce,  Who Had Approached

Them Unobserved. "Excuse Me," Said He,  "But You Ladies Seem To Have Hit

Upon A Very Interesting Theme."

"Yes,  Papa," Said Bella. "I Took The Liberty To Question This Lady As

To Her Experiences Of Sick-Beds,  And She Was Good Enough To Give Me

Some Of Them."

Having Uttered This With A Sudden Appearance Of Calmness That First

Amazed The Sister,  Then Made Her Smile,  She Took Her Father's Arm,

Bowed Politely,  And A Little Stiffly,  To Her New Friend,  And Drew The

Admiral Away.

"Oh!" Thought The Sister. "I Am Not To Speak To The Old Gentleman. He

Is Not In Her Confidence. Yet She Is Very Fond Of Him. How She Hangs On

His Arm! Simplicity! Candor! We Are All Tarred With The Same Stick--We

Women."

That Night Bella Was A Changed Girl--Exalted And Depressed By Turns,

And With No Visible Reason.

Her Father Was Pleased. Anything Better Than That Deadly Languor.

The Next Day Bella Sat By Her Father's Side In The Square,  Longing To

Go To The Sister,  Yet Patiently Waiting To Be Ordered.

At Last The Admiral,  Finding Her Dull And Listless,  Said,  "Why Don't

You Go And Talk To The Sister? She Amuses You. I'll Join You When I

Have Smoked This Cigar."

The Obedient Bella Rose,  And Went Toward The Sister As If Compelled.

But When She Got To Her Her Whole Manner Changed. She Took Her Warmly

By The Hand,  And Said,  Trembling And Blushing,  And All On Fire,  "I Have

Brought You The Anonymous Letter."

The Elder Actress Took It And Ran Her Eye Over It--An Eye That Now

Sparkled Like A Diamond. "Humph!" Said She,  And Flung Off All The

Dulcet Tones Of Her Assumed Character With Mighty Little Ceremony.

"This Hand Is Disguised A Little,  But I Think I Know It. I Am Sure I

Do! The Dirty Little Rascal!"

"Madam!" Cried Bella,  Aghast With Surprise At This Language.

"I Tell You I Know The Writer And His Rascally Motive. You Must Lend Me

This For A Day Or Two."

"Must I?" Said Bella. "Excuse Me! Papa Would Be So Angry."

"Very Likely; But You Will Lend It To Me For All That; For With This I

Can Clear Miss Bruce's Lover And Defeat His Enemies."

Bella Uttered A Faint Cry,  And Trembled,  And Her Bosom Heaved

Violently. She Looked This Way And That,  Like A Frightened Deer. "But

Papa? His Eye Is On Us."

"Never Deceive Your Father!" Said The Sister,  Almost Sternly; "But,"

Darting Her Gray Eyes Right Into Those Dove-Like Orbs,  "Give Me Five

Minutes' Start--If You Really Love Sir Charles Bassett."

With These Words She Carried Off The Letter; And Bella Ran,  Blushing,

Panting,  Trembling,  To Her Father,  And Clung To Him.

He Questioned Her,  But Could Get Nothing From Her Very Intelligible

Until The Sister Was Out Of Sight,  And Then She Told Him All Without

Reserve.

"I Was Unworthy Of Him To Doubt Him. An Anonymous Slander. I'll Never

Trust Appearances Again. Poor Charles! Oh,  My Darling! What He Must

Have Suffered If He Loves Like Me." Then Came A Shower Of Happy Tears;

Then A Shower Of Happy Kisses.

The Admiral Groaned,  But For A Long Time He Could Not Get A Word In.

When He Did It Was Chilling. "My Poor Girl," Said He,  "This Unhappy

Love Blinds You. What,  Don't You See The Woman Is No Nun,  But Some Sly

Hussy That Man Has Sent To Throw Dust In Your Eyes?"

Nothing She Could Say Prevailed To Turn Him From This View,  And He

Acted Upon It With Resolution: He Confined Her Excursions To A Little

Garden At The Back Of The House,  And Forbade Her,  On Any Pretense,  To

Cross The Threshold.

Miss Somerset Came To The Square In Another Disguise,  Armed With

Important Information. But No Bella Bruce Appeared To Meet Her.

All This Time Richard Bassett Was Happy As A Prince.

So Besotted Was He With Egotism,  And So Blinded By Imaginary Wrongs,

That He Rejoiced In The Lovers' Separation,  Rejoiced In His Cousin's

Attack.

Polly,  Who Now Regarded Him Almost As A Lover,  Told Him All About It;

And Already In Anticipation He Saw Himself And His Line Once More Lords

Of The Two Manors--Bassett And Huntercombe--On The Demise Of Sir

Charles Bassett,  Bart.,  Deceased Without Issue.

And,  In Fact,  Sir Charles Was Utterly Defeated. He Lay Torpid.

But There Was A Tough Opponent In The Way--All The More Dangerous That

She Was Not Feared.

One Fine Day Miss Somerset Electrified Her Groom By Ordering Her Pony

Carriage To The Door At Ten A. M.

She Took The Reins On The Pavement,  Like A Man,  Jumped In Light As A

Feather,  And Away Rattled The Carriage Into The City. The Ponies Were

All Alive,  The Driver's Eye Keen As A Bird's; Her Courage And Her

Judgment Equal. She Wound In And Out Among The Huge Vehicles With

Perfect Composure; And On Those Occasions When,  The Traffic Being

Interrupted,  The Oratorical Powers Were Useful To Fill Up The Time,  She

Shone With Singular Brilliance. The West End Is Too Often In Debt To

The City,  But,  In The Matter Of Chaff,  It Was Not So This Day; For

Whenever She Took A Peck She Returned A Bushel; And So She Rattled To

The Door Of Solomon Oldfield,  Solicitor,  Old Jewry.

She Penetrated Into The Inner Office Of That Worthy,  And Told Him He

Must Come With Her That Minute To Portman Square.

"Impossible,  Madam!" And,  As They Say In The Law Reports,  Gave His

Reasons.

"Certain,  Sir!" And Gave No Reasons.

He Still Resisted.

Thereupon She Told Him She Should Sit There All Day And Chaff His

Clients One After Another,  And That His Connection With The Bassett And

Huntercombe Estates Should End.

Then He Saw He Had To Do With A Termagant,  And Consented,  With A Sigh.

She Drove Him Westward,  Wincing Every Now And Then At Her Close

Driving,  And Told Him All,  And Showed Him What She Was Pleased To Call

Her Little Game. He Told Her It Was Too Romantic. Said He,  "You Ladies

Read Nothing But Novels; But The Real World Is Quite Different From The

World Of Novels." Having Delivered This Remonstrance--Which Was

Tolerably Just,  For She Never Read Anything But Novels And Sermons--He

Submitted Like A Lamb,  And Received Her Instructions.

She Drove As Fast As She Talked,  So That By This Time They Were At

Admiral Bruce's Door.

Now Mr. Oldfield Took The Lead,  As Per Instructions. "Mr. Oldfield,

Solicitor,  And A Lady--On Business."

The Porter Delivered This To The Footman With The Accuracy Which All

Who Send Verbal Messages Deserve And May Count On. "Mr. Oldfield And

Lady."

The Footman,  Who Represented The Next Step In Oral Tradition,  Without

Which Form Of History The Heathen World Would Never Have Known That

Hannibal Softened The Rocks With Vinegar,  Nor The Christian World That

Eleven Thousand Virgins Dwelt In A German Town The Size Of Putney,

Announced The Pair As "Mr. And Mrs. Hautville."

"I Don't Know Them,  I Think. Well,  I Will See Them."

They Entered,  And The Admiral Stared A Little,  And Wondered How This

Couple Came Together--The Keen But Plain Old Man,  With Clothes Hanging

On Him,  And The Dashing Beauty,  With Her Dress In The Height Of The

Fashion,  And Her Gauntleted Hands. However,  He Bowed Ceremoniously,  And

Begged His Visitors To Be Seated.

Now The Folding-Doors Were Ajar,  And The _Soi-Disant_ Mrs. Oldfield

Peeped. She Saw Bella Bruce At Some Distance,  Seated By The Fire,  In A

Reverie.

Judge That Young Lady's Astonishment When She Looked Up And Observed A

Large White,  Well-Shaped Hand,  Sparkling With Diamonds And Rubies,

Beckoning Her Furtively.

The Owner Of That Sparkling Hand Soon Heard A Soft Rustle Of Silk Come

Toward The Door; The Very Rustle,  Somehow,  Was Eloquent,  And Betrayed

Love And Timidity,  And Something Innocent Yet Subtle. The Jeweled Hand

Went In Again Directly.

Meantime Mr. Oldfield Began To Tell The Admiral Who He Was,  And That He

Was Come To Remove A False Impression About A Client Of His,  Sir

Charles Bassett.

"That,  Sir," Said The Admiral,  Sternly,  "Is A Name We Never Mention

Here."

He Rose And Went To The Folding-Doors,  And Deliberately Closed Them.

The Somerset,  Thus Defeated,  Bit Her Lip,  And Sat All Of A Heap,  Like A

Cat About To Spring,  Looking Sulky And Vicious.

Mr. Oldfield Persisted,  And,  As He Took The Admiral's Hint And Lowered

His Voice,  He Was Interrupted No More,  But Made A Simple Statement Of

Those Facts Which Are Known To The Reader.

Admiral Bruce Heard Them,  And Admitted That The Case Was Not Quite So

Bad As He Had Thought.

Then Mr. Oldfield Proposed That Sir Charles Should Be Re-Admitted.

"No," Said The