"
For a moment Colonel de Haldimar seemed to regard his
son with a surprised but satisfied air, as if he had not
expected the manifestation of so much spirit, in one whom
he had been accustomed greatly to undervalue.
"I believe you, Charles," he at length observed; "forgive
the justifiable doubt, and think no more of the subject.
Yet, one word," as the youth was preparing to depart;
"you have read that letter" (and he pointed to that which
had principally arrested the attention of the officer):
"what impression has it given you of your mother? Answer
me sincerely. MY name," and his faint smile wore something
of the character of triumph, "is not REGINALD, you know."
The pallid cheek of the young man flushed at this question.
His own undisguised impression was, that his mother had
cherished a guilty love for another than her husband. He
felt the almost impiety of such a belief, but he could
not resist the conviction that forced itself on his mind;
the letter in her handwriting spoke for itself; and though
the idea was full of wretchedness, he was unable to
conquer it. Whatever his own inference might be, however,
he could not endure the thought of imparting it to his
father; he, therefore, answered evasively.
Pages:
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596