The Truth About Tristrem Varick

man that he was, discovered that his own house was more comfortable than a crowded hotel. This particular summer, therefore, he passed as usual in New York, and Tris

s the air. In his first need of sympathy he had gone to the irascible and kind-hearted old gentleman and told him of the breaking of the engagement, and, he mi

she accepted me, it was on the spur of the moment. Since then she has thought of it more seriously. It is for me to win her, not for her to throw hers

n answered. And then, for the tim

bundle of letters, together with the Panama hat, which, through some splendid irony, had been devised to him in the only clause of the will in whic

. They were all in the same hand, one and all contained protestations of passionate love, and each wa

se that she had some inkling of them which her feminine instinct had supplemented into evidence, and which had compelled her to forbid the banns. There were, however, certain things which he could not make clear to his mi

ement of the engagement had been made to him, and possibly through some communication which had only reached her after his sudden death. This explanation he was inclined to accept, and he was particularly inclined to

rishes that which is best and most perfect of all. And abruptly that fame was tarnished, as some fair picture might be sullied by a splash and splatter of mud. And as though that were insufficient, t

er to him where he was? If New York, instead of being merely hot and uncomfortable, had been cholera-smitten, and the prey of pest, Tristrem's demeanor would not have altered. There are people whom calamity affects like a tonic, who rise from misfortune refreshed; there are others on whom disaster acts like a

reverted to him. It was then that he made it over in its entirety to the institution to which it had been originally devised; and it was in connection with the disposal of th

onfident that the estate would be Tristrem's, and thus assured, it seemed unnecessary to him to touch on a matter to which Tristrem had not alluded, and which was pre

hould be very much gratified to learn in what your judgment is superior to that of the Legislature, and why you should refuse that to w

ad been asked to open a wound. But he answered nothing. He

tions. He made as though he would speak, yet for the time being the intensity of his feelings prevented him. He took up the letters again

ast the walls. Mr. Van Norden was standing near to Tristrem, but that he might be the better assured of his attention, he caught him by the arm, and addressed him in abrupt, disjointed sentences, in a torrent of phrases, unconnected, as though others than

id and glorious to behold. And Tristrem, with the thirst of one who has drunk of thirst

-And precious little thanks I got for my pains. He said he would see the girl in her grave first. He would have it that Raritan was after her for her money. It's true he hadn't a penny-but-what's that got to do with it? The mischief's done. She must have sent these letters to your mother to return to Raritan just before she married that idiot Wainwaring. Your mother was her most intimate friend-they were at school together at Pelham Priory. Raritan, I suppose, was away. Before he got back, your m

stormed to ravished and indulgent ears. And when at last he did stop, Tristrem, who meanwhile had been silent as

his eyes to the ground. "I am gladder," Tristrem continued, "to know myself his son than to be the possessor of all New York. But when I thought that

down into the furrows of his cheek. From his throat came a sound that did not wholly resemble a sob and yet was not like to laughter, his mouth twitch

er, nor was it for that that she had once placed her hand in his. He was well rid of it all, since in the riddance the doors of his prison-house were unlocked. For three months his heart had been not dead but haunted, and now it was instinct with life and fluttered by the beckonings of hope. He had fronted sorrow. Pain had claimed him for its own, and in its intensity it had absorbed hi

he engagement was renewed. He had even the cruelty to determine that his grandfather sh

presently exclaimed, "that I

nd," his grandf

e demolition of the obstacle which his father had erected the engagement should be at once renewed; he blamed himself for having even suggested that Viola was capricious; he mourned over the position in which she had been placed; he pictured Mrs

anting that your father wrote to Mrs. Raritan, which I doubt-although, to be sure, he was capable of anything-d

about th

" the old gentleman cried, aroused to new in

r, shook his head. "You don't know Viola," he answered

ton, and her mother a fit subject for Bedlam, don't tell them that you are going to work. And what would y

ocks," said Tri

ry enough in comparison to the property which you threw out of the window, but, paltry or not, it's more than you deserve. Meanwhile, I will--There, don't begin your nonsense again, sir. For the last three months you have done nothing but bother the soul out of me. Meanwhile, if you don't accept what I care to g

trem in the eyes, and grasping him by the shou