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My Novel — Volume 12 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 89 of 359 (24%)
"Cruel!" said he; "yet I would not for worlds force myself on her
presence. I hope, Duke, that she will not find it too difficult to obey
the commands which dispose of her hand, and intrust her happiness to my
grateful charge."

"To be plain with you, Randal, she does at present seem to find it more
difficult than I foresaw. She even talks of--"

"Another attachment--Oh, heavens!"

"Attachment, /pazzie!/ Whom has she seen? No, a convent! But leave it
to me. In a calmer hour she will comprehend that a child must know no
lot more enviable and holy than that of redeeming a father's honour. And
now, if you are returning to London, may I ask you to convey to young Mr.
Hazeldean my assurances of undying gratitude for his share in my
daughter's delivery from that poor baffled swindler."

It is noticeable that, now Peschiera was no longer an object of dread to
the nervous father, he became but an object of pity to the philosopher,
and of contempt to the grandee.

"True," said Randal, "you told me Frank had a share in Lord L'Estrange's
very clever and dramatic device. My Lord must be by nature a fine
actor,--comic, with a touch of melodrame! Poor Frank! apparently he has
lost the woman he adored,--Beatrice di Negra. You say she has
accompanied the count. Is the marriage that was to be between her and
Frank broken off?"

"I did not know such a marriage was contemplated. I understood her to be
attached to another. Not that that is any reason why she would not have
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