For fifteen years, my heart has never known an hour's peace;
and to the end of my life, I shall be a desolate, miserable,
broken-hearted woman. Can you understand, now, the valuelessness of my
riches, and how desolate my splendid house must seem to me? They have
been given me for no useful purpose here or hereafter; they encumber
me, and do no good to others. Who is to have them when I die?
Hospitals and schools? I hate the medical profession, and I am against
the education of the poor. I think it the great evil of the day, and I
would not leave a penny of mine to such a radical wrong. What is to
become of my wealth?'--
'Your grandson,' I interrupted hastily: 'the child of the officer.'
The old woman's face gradually softened. 'Ah! he is a lovely boy,' she
said; 'but I don't love him--no, I don't,' she repeated vehemently.
'If I set my heart on him, he will die or turn out ill: take to the
low ways of his wretched mother, or die some horrible death. I steel
my heart against him, and shut him out from my calculations of the
future. He is a sweet boy: interesting, affectionate, lovely; but I
will not allow myself to love him, and I don't allow him to love me!
But you ought to see him. His hair is like my own daughter's--long,
glossy, golden hair; and his eyes are large and blue, and the lashes
curl on his cheek like heavy fringes. He is too pale and too thin: he
looks sadly delicate; but his wretched mother was a delicate little
creature, and he has doubtless inherited a world of disease and poor
blood from her.
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