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The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain - The Works of William Carleton, Volume One by William Carleton
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son, especially as you seem to wish it so anxiously. To tell you the
truth, I fear very much that you are, contrary to remonstrance, and
with your eyes open to the consequences, precipitating your charming and
admirable Lucy upon wretchedness and disconsolation for the remainder
of her life; and I can tell her, and would if I were allowed, that the
coronet of a countess, however highly either she or you may appreciate
it, will be found but a poor substitute for the want of that affection
and esteem, upon which only can be founded domestic happiness and
contentment.

"Ever, my dear Gourlay, faithfully yours,

"CULLAMORE."


The baronet's face, after having perused this epistle, brightened up
as much as any face of such sombre and repulsive expression could be
supposed to do; but, again, upon taking into consideration what he
looked upon as the unjustifiable obstinacy of his daughter, it became
once more stern and overshadowed. He ground his teeth with vexation
as he paced to and fro the room, as was his custom when in a state of
agitation or anger. After some minutes, during which his passion seemed
only to increase, he went to her apartment, and, thrusting in his head
to ascertain that she was safe, he deliberately locked the door,
and, putting the key in his pocket, once more ordered his horse, and
proceeded to Glenshee Castle, the princely residence of his friend, Lord
Cullamore.

None of our readers, we presume, would feel disposed to charge our
hardened baronet with any tendency to superstition. That he felt its
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