Rosa Lambert — page 110: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

| Bes | | | | ROSA LAMBERT. to my knowledge by the strangest of coincidences : I will not pause to tell you how—because there is | work to be done. father.” “Oh, Miss Lambert !”’ exclaimed Caroline, join- ing her hands in impassioned entreaty, “if you would but avail yourself of this opportunity to breathe in my father’s ear that a penitent and a wretched daughter—a daughter who has been deeply, far too deeply punished —implores permis- sfon to cast herself at his feet a “Rest assured, Caroline,’ I interrupted her, “that I shall not forget to plead your cause: but I shall do it in a way that, if from all you have told me I rightly understand your father’s charac- ter, will I think be almost certain of success. Do not however buoy yourself up with hopes that may | be disappointed: prepare yourself for the worst— so that if the best should come, the joy thereof will be all the greater.” “Go, my best and dearest friend,’ murmured the unfortunate girl, trembling with suspense : “and for heaven’s sake, be not long ere you re- turn !” I promised to lose no time; and having em- braced her, took my departure. CHAPTER XIII, THE USURER. IT mAD ordered the hackney-coach to wait for me ; and now I directed the driver to take me to Bond Street, City. While proceeding thither, I reviewed all I had learnt from the lips of Caroline Seymour. —not so much for the purpose of keeping alive the: flame of vindictive cravings that burnt in m bosom, as for that of assuring myself that I had formed an exact appreciation of her father’s cha- racter. According to the standard of that disposi- tion, and the way that I understood its selfishness, its heartlessness, its weak and its strong points, I go straight hence to your | —— -_——<$—__ — did I propose to adapt my own plan of proceeding. | All the details of this plan were duly settled in my | brain by the time that the hackney-coach stopped in front of one of the dingy, dismal-looking houses ‘In Broad Street. +-On alighting, I knocked at the door. An elderly fone! ule-servant, with a sour aspect and half-starved appearance, answered the summons at the end of an interval so long that I was just on the point of knocking again. «Ts Mr. Seymour at ome: Pp” T inquired. “ Yes—he is, ma’am,’ responded the domestic: and she looked very hard at me, as if wondering What a person of my sex, apparel, and appearance could possibly want with ‘her master. “I wish to see him on particular business,” at once said, with an air of decision. The servant conducted me into a parlour on the ground-floor, and inquired what name she should take to her master. to give mine: most serious importance. and during the few minutes which elapsed ere Mr. I Seymour made his appearance, I cast my eyes) conversing; and therefore no time will be lost. around the room. ———— lt replied that it was no use | any name, as he was unacquainted with | ‘ but I aalfled that my business was of the : —how—what The woran retired; | Uhe furniture was old-fashioned beleve your transactions are very large © ‘tone of firm confidence, 99 ;and had never been very costly: the window- ‘curtains, once red, were all faded and covered with dust: the carpet was threadbare: the walls had not been re-papered for years, nor the ceiling white- washed. It must have been his own house—or else the terms of his lease would have decidedly compelled him to paint the wood-work more frequently than it could possibly have undergone that process. While I was in the midst of my survey, the door opened, and a little old man, with a skull-cap of rusty black silk upon his head, entered the room. His spare stooping figure was enveloped in a dingy dressing-gown: his feet were thrust into buff leather slippers. His sharp angular features —the quick, penetrating, but suspicious glances of his eyes—the knitting of the brogvs—and the com- pression of the lps, denoted every trait of his character. Love of gold—pinching parsimony— —miserly greed—hardness of heart—shrewd cun- ning—and thorough worldly-mindedness, were as legibly written on that face as in the pages of a book. He bowed very slightly; and without asking me to take a seat—for I had remained standing—looked at me as much as to imply that he awaited the explanation of my business and that his time was precious. “T may perhaps detain you, sir,” I began, in a “for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour: but 1 hope and think that when [take my departure, you will have reason to congratulate yourself that you have accorded me so much patience.” “But are you sure, ma’am,” he asked, in a screeching disagreeable voice, while his siuister, searching, speaking ‘eyes were fixed upon me, “that you have made no mistake, and that I am the right person P” “T am sure of it,’ I answered,—“if I have the honour of addressing myself to Mr. Obadiah Seymour.” “That is my name,” business-like response. down.” “Yes—if you will also be seated,” I said: “for we must converse without restraint.” Again his eyes were fastened upon me in their peculiar searching manner: while the old man took a chair exactly opposite to the one in which I seated myself. “What would you say to me, Mr. Seymour,” I asked, meeting that gaze steadily and unflinchinely, “if I had it in my power to save you the loss of a very considerable sum of money ?” “Ah!” ejaculated the old man—and now his eyes twinkled with an uneasy gleaming; “loss of money did you say ?’—and hy his look and manner Ihave no doubt he in a few swift brief moments cast a survey over all his pecuniary transactions, so as to anticipate the point amongst them all on which I was about to setile his attention ‘““Yes—I can save you from an immense loss IT continued. “TJ have no doubt of it!” “Indeed, ma’am, I do not for a moment mis- trust you,” said My. Seymour, trembling nervously ‘you speak as if vou were serious ey) was the old man’s quick “Perhaps you will sit But where “Have a little asia sir,’ I interjected the loss cannot possibly take place while we are Li | | | Cele (e(@) JOO cS (E(©)