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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"

How very natural! My dear madam, I
object to him--to him--emphatically to Ned himself.'
Mrs Varden was perfectly aghast at the disclosure.
'He has, if he honourably fulfils this solemn obligation of which I have
told you--and he must be honourable, dear Mrs Varden, or he is no son
of mine--a fortune within his reach. He is of most expensive, ruinously
expensive habits; and if, in a moment of caprice and wilfulness, he
were to marry this young lady, and so deprive himself of the means
of gratifying the tastes to which he has been so long accustomed, he
would--my dear madam, he would break the gentle creature's heart. Mrs
Varden, my good lady, my dear soul, I put it to you--is such a sacrifice
to be endured? Is the female heart a thing to be trifled with in this
way? Ask your own, my dear madam. Ask your own, I beseech you.'
'Truly,' thought Mrs Varden, 'this gentleman is a saint. But,' she added
aloud, and not unnaturally, 'if you take Miss Emma's lover away, sir,
what becomes of the poor thing's heart then?'
'The very point,' said Mr Chester, not at all abashed, 'to which I
wished to lead you. A marriage with my son, whom I should be compelled
to disown, would be followed by years of misery; they would be
separated, my dear madam, in a twelvemonth.


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