Paul Clifford — Volume 05 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 21 of 66 (31%)
page 21 of 66 (31%)
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voice with which these last words were spoken, that Lucy, hurried off her
guard, and forgetting everything in wondering sympathy and compassion, answered, extending her hand towards Clifford, who, still kneeling, seized and covered it with kisses of fire,-- "Do not speak thus, Mr. Clifford; do not accuse yourself of what I am sure, quite sure, you cannot deserve. Perhaps--forgive me--your birth, your fortune, are beneath your merits, and you have penetrated into my father's weakness on the former point; or perhaps you yourself have not avoided all the errors into which men are hurried,--perhaps you have been imprudent or thoughtless, perhaps you have (fashion is contagious) played beyond your means or incurred debts: these are faults, it is true, and to be regretted, yet surely not irreparable." For that instant can it be wondered that all Clifford's resolution and self-denial deserted him, and lifting his eyes, radiant with joy and gratitude, to the face which bent in benevolent innocence towards him, he exclaimed,-- "No, Miss Brandon!--no, Lucy!--dear, angel Lucy! my faults are less venial than these, but perhaps they are no less the consequence of circumstances and contagion; perhaps it may not be too late to repair them. Would you--you indeed deign to be my guardian, I might not despair of being saved!" "If," said Lucy, blushing deeply and looking down, while she spoke quick and eagerly, as if to avoid humbling him by her offer,--"if, Mr. Clifford, the want of wealth has in any way occasioned you uneasiness or --or error, do believe me--I mean _us_--so much your friends as not for an instant to scruple in relieving us of some little portion of our last |
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