| | 1 | Author: | Holmes
Mary Jane
1825-1907 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Marian Grey; or, The heiress of Redstone hall  | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The night was dark and the clouds black and heavy
which hung over Redstone Hall, whose massive walls
loomed up through the darkness like some huge sentinel
keeping guard over the spacious grounds by which
it was surrounded. Within the house all was still,
and without there was no sound to break the midnight
silence save the sighing of the autumnal wind
through the cedar trees, or the roar of the river, which,
swollen by the recent heavy rains, went rushing on to
meet its twin sister at a point well known in Kentucky,
where our story opens, as “The Forks of the Elkhorn.”
From one of the lower windows a single light was
shining, and its dim rays fell upon the face of a white-haired
man, who moaned uneasily in his sleep, as if
pursued by some tormenting fear. At last, as the old-fashioned
clock struck off the hour of twelve, he
awoke, and glancing nervously toward the corner,
whence the sound proceeded, he whispered, “Have
you come again, Ralph Lindsey, to tell me of my
sin?” “Dearest Alice—Precious little Alice. If my
heart was not already broken, it would break at leaving
you. Don't mourn for me much, darling. Tell
Dinah and Hetty, and the other blacks, not to cry—
and if I've ever been cross to them, they must forget
it now that I am gone. God bless you all. Good by
—good by.” M. Raymond—I now take my pen in hand to inform
you that A young Woman, calling herself Marian
lindsey has ben staying with me awhile And she said
you was her Husband what she came of and left you
for I don't know and I spose its none of my Biznes all
I have to do is to tell you that she died wun week ago
come sunday with the cankerrash and she made me
Promise to rite and tell you she was ded and that she
forgives you all your Sins and hope you wouldn't wate
long before you marred agen it would of done your
Hart good to hear her taulk like a Sante as she did.
I should of writ soonner only her sicknes hindered me
about gettin reddy for a journey ime goin to take my
only Brother lives in scotland and ime goin out to live
with him i was most reddy when Marian took sick if
she had lived she was coming back to you I bleave
and now that shes ded ime going rite of in the —
which sales tomorrough nite else ide ask you to come
down and see where she died and all about it. i made
her as comfitable as I could and hopin you wouldnt
take it to hard for Deth is the Lot of all i am your
most Humble Servant “I should prefer your wife to be somewhat nearer
your equal in point of family, it is true, but your description
of Marian Grey won my heart entirely, and
you have my consent to offer yourself at once. By so
doing, you will probably deprive Alice of her governess
and me of a pleasant companion, for I had made
an arrangement with Ben to have Miss Grey with us
next year. But no matter for that. Woo and win
her just the same, and Heaven grant you a happier
future than my past has been. “You and I have suffered alke, and in each of our
hearts there is a hidden grave. I saw it in the tears
you shed when talking to me of Marian Grey. Heaven
bless you, Ben Burt, for all you have been to her.
13
She is one of the fairest, best, of God's creation, but
she was not meant for you nor me; and we must learn
to go our way without her. You have done for her
more, perhaps, than either Mr. Raymond or myself
would have done in the same circumstances, and thus
far you are more worthy of her esteem. You will
please accept the inclosed as a token that I appreciate
your self-denying labors for Marian Grey. Use it
for that grocery we talked about, if you choose, or
for any purpose you like. If you have any delicacy
just consider it a loan to be paid when you are a
richer man than I am. You cannot return it, of
course, for when you receive it I shall be gone. “For vally rec. I promise to pay Bill Gordon, or
bearer, the sum of three hundred dollars with use from
date. “Think not that you have displeased me,” he said,
“for this is not why I send you from me. Both of us
cannot stay, and though for Alice's sake I would gladly
keep you here, it must not be. I am going to New
Orleans, to be absent three or four weeks, and shall
not expect to find you here on my return. You will
need money, and I enclose a check for a thousand dollars.
Don't refuse to take it, for I give it willingly,
and conduct is sadly at variance with my
words, you must believe me when I say that in all the
world you have not so true a friend, as “Frederic knows it all, and we are so happy. We
are to have a great party on the 20th, and you must
surely come. Don't fail us, that's a dear, good Ben,
but come as soon as you get this. Then I will tell you
what I can't write now, for Frederic keeps worrying
me with teasing me to kiss him. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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