The Widow Barnaby Vol. III (of 3)   By: Frances Eleanor Trollope (1835-1913)

BY FRANCES TROLLOPE,

AUTHOR OF "THE VICAR OF WREXHILL," "A ROMANCE OF VIENNA," ETC.

IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III.

LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.

1839.

LONDON: PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, Dorset Street, Fleet Street.

THE WIDOW BARNABY.

CHAPTER I.

MRS. BARNABY LOSES HER SENSES, AND RECOVERS THEM. SHE TAKES A DESPERATE RESOLUTION. MISS MORRISON PROVES HERSELF A FRIEND IN NEED. AGNES FINDS CONSOLATION IN SORROW.

Mrs. Barnaby's horror on recovering her senses (for she really did fall into a swoon) was in very just proportion to the extent of the outlay her noble vision had cost her. To Miss Morrison, who had listened to all her hopes, she scrupled not to manifest her despair, not, however, entering into the financial part of it, but leaving it to be understood by her sympathizing friend, that her agony proceeded wholly from disappointed love.

"What a Lovelace!... what a Lothario!... what a finished deceiver!... Keloreur!... " exclaimed the pitying spinster.... "And how thankful ought I to be that no man can ever again cause me such terrible emotion.... Nong jammy! "

"Gracious Heaven! what is to become of me?" cried Mrs. Barnaby, apparently but little consoled by this assurance of her friend's exemption from a similar misfortune; "what ought I to do, Miss Morrison?... If I set off instantly for London, do you think I could reach it before he leaves it for Rome?"

Miss Morrison, having turned to the newspaper, examined its date, and read the fatal paragraph again, replied, "You certainly could, my dear Mrs. Barnaby, if this statement be correct; but I would not do it, if I were you, without thinking very seriously about it.... It is true I never had a lord for a lover myself, but I believe when they run restive, they are exceedingly difficult to hold; and if you do go after him, and fail at last to touch his cruel heart, you will be only worse off than you are now.... Say clare. "

"That may be all very true in one sense, Miss Morrison," replied the unhappy widow; "but there is such a thing as pursuing a man lawfully for breach of promise of marriage, and ... though money is no object to me ... I should glory in getting damages from him, if only to prove to the world that he is a scoundrel!"

"That is quite another thing, indeed," said the confidant, " toot a fay ; and, if you mean to bring an action against him, I am pretty sure that I could be very useful to you; for my brother is an attorney in London, and is reckoned particularly clever about everything of the kind. But have you any proof, my dear lady?... that is what my brother will be sure to say to you.... I know you have had lots of letters; and if you have kept them all, it is most likely my brother may find out something like proof.... Eel ay see abeel! "

"Proof?... To be sure I have proof enough, if that's all that's wanted; and I'll go to your brother at once, Miss Morrison, for revenge I'll have ... if nothing else."

"Then of course you'll take all his love letters with you, Mrs. Barnaby; and I think, if you would let me look over them, I should be able to tell you whether they would answer the purpose or not. Jay me coney ung pew. "

"I should have no objection in the world to your seeing them every one," replied the outraged lady; ... "but I am thinking, Miss Morrison, that I have an immense deal of business to do, and that I shall never get through it without your friendly help ... I am thinking...."