"You will wonder why I went on by the steamship--all the way to South
Africa--when I had failed to find the man I wanted, on board. What was
my motive? You, you alone, are always my motive. Lucky men have found
gold, lucky men have found diamonds. Why should I not be one of them?
My sweet, let us suppose two possible things; my own elastic
convictions would call them two likely things, but never mind that.
Say, I come back a reformed character; there is your only objection to
me, at once removed! And take it for granted that I return with a
fortune of my own finding. In that case, what becomes of Mr. Henley's
objection to me? It melts (as Shakespeare says somewhere) into thin
air. Now do take my advice, for once. Show this part of my letter to
your excellent father, with my love. I answer beforehand for the
consequences. Be happy, my Lady Harry--as happy as I am--and look for
my return on an earlier day than you may anticipate. Yours till death,
and after.
"HARRY."
Like the Irish lord, Miss Henley was "in two minds," while she rose,
and dressed herself. There were parts of the letter for which she loved
the writer, and parts of it for which she hated him.
What a prospect was before that reckless man--what misery, what horror,
might not be lying in wait in the dreadful future! If he failed in the
act of vengeance, that violent death of which he had written so
heedlessly might overtake him from another hand.
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