Henry Dunbar
and Southampton, Laura Dunbar, the banker's daughter,
She had met Mr. Dunbar in India, after the death of her first husband, a young captain in a cavalry regiment, who had been killed in an
gland were very little better off than herself. She was almost as helpless as her six-weeks' old baby; she was heart-broken by the loss of the handsome young Irishman, whom
im on account of some money arrangements of her dead husband's, who had always banked with Dunbar and Dunbar; a
and's death. Little Dorothea Macmahon was sent to England with a native nurse, and placed under the care of her maternal relatives; and He
ly, as even a selfish man can so
tortured by remorseful thoughts about the fatherless child who had been so ruthlessly banished from her. Henry Dunbar was a jealous ma
he fashionables of Calcutta were discussing the promised splendour of a ball, for which Lady Louisa had issued her invitations, when the tidings of her death spread like wildfire through the city - Henry Dunba
three years after Lady Louisa's death. A good many young ladies were expressly imported f
manda's black eyes glittered like the stars in a midnight sky; though the dashing Georgina was more graceful than Diana,
d no witchery for the banker. His heart was dead. He had given all the truth, all the passio
ms of a man whose purse was empty. The bright young English beauties found this ou
cause of his indifference, but rather by reason of his idolatry. It was the only unselfis
kill her; if I should lose her, as I lost her mother? I will send her away from me now,
ph Lane, after the discovery of the forgery, that he would n
nbar looked forward with eager anxiety, with
re was no conscious pride in her aspect, no cold hauteur in her ever-changing face. She was such a woman as might have sat by the side of an English king to plead for all trembling petitioners kneeling on the steps of the throne. She would have been only in her fitting place b
had been allowed to have her own way in everything; to go hither and thither, free as the butterflies in her carefully tended garden; to scatter her money right and left; to be imposed upon and cheated by every wandering vagabond who found his way to her ga
ve capriciously in the summer wind; and if Laura Dunbar was a little passionate when you tried to thwart her; and if her great blue eyes at such times had a trick of lighting up with sudden fire in them, like a burst of lurid
e had seen a great deal of society, for it had been the d
- a certain Elizabeth Madden, who had been Lady Louisa's own maid before her marr
who of late years had almost lived at the Abbey, much to the delight of Laura. Nor was the little party without an escort; for Ar
awyer was very enthusiastic in behalf of his beautiful client. Why should I seek to make a mystery of this gentleman's feelings? He loved her. He loved this girl, who, by reason of her father's wealth, was as far removed from him as i
lest sense of that noble word, he was no fit husband for the daughter of Henry Dunbar. He was an only son, and he was heir to a very com
future? That was the question w
ent in India had been offered to him through the intervention of a nobleman, a friend of his father's. This appointment would afford the chance of a
ty for an immediate decision. If Arthur accepted the appointment, he would not be obliged to
itor, "your son can think the matter over, my dear Lo
ad already made
in life. But before I go I will tell her that I love her. If she returns my love, my
hat it was possible he might hear his death-knell from the lips he worshipped. He
fearlessly; for it is her nature to be fearless and candid as a child. But his coming may change
Laura and Mrs. Madden a
staying. He called upon Miss Dunbar on the 18th; but found that she was out shopping with Mrs. Madden. He called again, on the mor
tre of the room. Mrs. Madden, who was companion, housekeeper, and confidential maid to her charming young mistress, was officiating at the breakfast-table; Dora Macmahon was sitting near her, with an open book by the
semi-diaphanous muslin. Her thick auburn hair was twisted into a diadem that crowned her broad white forehead, and added a coupl
y, and the Lady's Mile is as lonely as the Great Sahara. There are plenty of theatres open, and there was a concert at one of the opera-houses last night; but
shook her he
as held your finger up to beckon of him. Your gran'pa spiled you, Miss Laura. A pretty thing it would ha
as very lovely when she smiled; she was very lovely when she
f a cascade under a sunny sky. "I should only have been sitting quietly in a private box, with my rapid, precious, aggravating,
head again even more
Laura. You mustn't expect to fi
ell upon the gir
d, "you don't mean that p
rought you over, when you was but a bit of a baby, said that your pa was proud and passionate; and that even
ra Dunbar's face by this time, and th
usly. "I have so looked forward to his coming home. I have counted
aura," exclaimed Arthur Lovell, addressing her for the first time
ew words he had revealed the secret of his heart: but Laura Dunba
perfectly; and she smiled
se. She knew that he adored her young mistress; and she loo
eyes, with a grave, half-pensive softness in their sombre depths - were fixed upon the two young faces in the sunny window; the girl's face clouded with a look of sorrowful perplexity, the young man's f
a," Elizabeth Madden said, rather sharply. "Perhaps
t!" murmured
terday afternoon. I never did see such a forgetful wool-gathering y
the bonnet. But she very willingly left the room with Laura's old nurse, who was accustomed to have her man
of the chair, and her head supported by her hand. Her eyes were fixed, and looked straight before her, with a thoughtful gaze that
his chair nearer to
nt? I never saw you so serious before,
ow, tremulous voice, that was broken by her tears:
d I will speak. I am not a poor man, Laura; but you are so divided from the rest of the world by your father's wealth, that I have feared to speak. I hav
wondering eyes that were s
at come at the brave man's bidding; they are only masters when the coward calls them. Remember, my beloved one, this wealth that now stands between you and me may not always be yours. Your father is not an old man; he may marry again, and have a son to inherit his wealth. Would to Heaven, Laura, that it might be so! But be that as it may, I despair of nothing if I dare hope for your love. Oh, Laura, dearest, one word to tell me
m with a sweet smile, and la
dearly as I should have loved my brot
ilence. When he looked up, Laura
e me as a bro
I love you?" she
that was exquisitely beautiful, for it was the look of a man who i
ceived my sentence. You do not love me, deare
nds, and looked at
gry with me, Ar
h you, my
will stil
need of my services, you shall find what it is to have a faithful
of carriage-wheels below the window, and
r feet, and her bri
as come!" sh
ho had just come from St. Gundolph Lane, where he
Laura's face as she recognized the
appened to my fa
father has arrived in England safely, and is well, as I believe. He is stayi
has happe
c message. I was to come to you here, Miss Dunbar, to tell you not to expect your pa
!" exclai
n immediately to Messrs. Walford
s Dunbar; "he always acted as poor gran
"I beg you to allow me to accompany you. I sha
hesitated for
tly. "Mr. Dunbar says he wants a lawyer; he doesn't name any particular lawyer. We sha
ed at h
Miss Dunbar. We'll take care of your papa, an
a, murmured a few words in her ear,
rest hopes. He had seen his sentence in h
heart. He loved her with a chivalrous devotion, which, after all, is as natural to the breast of a young Englishm