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The Disowned — Volume 06 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 8 of 90 (08%)
the thorns sprang up and choked them. I am now rich, honoured, high
in the favour of courts, and not altogether unknown or unesteemed
arbitrio popularis aurae: and yet I almost think I was happier when,
in that flush of youth and inexperience, I looked forth into the wide
world, and imagined that from every corner would spring up a triumph
for my vanity or an object for my affections. The next time I stood
in this little spot, I was no longer the dependant of a precarious
charity, or the idle adventurer who had no stepping-stone but his
ambition. I was then just declared the heir of wealth, which I could
not rationally have hoped for five years before, and which was in
itself sufficient to satisfy the aspirings of ordinary men. But I was
corroded with anxieties for the object of my love, and regret for the
friend whom I had lost: perhaps the eagerness of my heart for the one
rendered me, for the moment, too little mindful of the other; but, in
after years, memory took ample atonement for that temporary suspension
of her duties. How often have I recalled, in this world of cold ties
and false hearts, that true and generous friend, from whose lessons my
mind took improvement, and from whose warnings example; who was to me,
living, a father, and from whose generosity whatever worldly
advantages I have enjoyed or distinctions I have gained are derived!
Then I was going, with a torn yet credulous heart, to pour forth my
secret and my passion to her, and, within one little week thence, how
shipwrecked of all hope, object, and future happiness I was! Perhaps,
at that time, I did not sufficiently consider the excusable cautions
of the world: I should not have taken such umbrage at her father's
letter; I should have revealed to him my birth and accession of
fortune; nor bartered the truth of certain happiness for the trials
and manoeuvres of romance. But it is too late to repent now. By this
time my image must be wholly obliterated from her heart: she has seen
me in the crowd, and passed me coldly by; her cheek is pale, but not
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