"Obstinate fool!" muttered Torrens between his teeth, as he hastened forward to save her from slipping off on the fender. "But I will neither argue nor consult any more—I will command, where I wish to be obeyed."
He applied a scent-bottle to her nostrils; and she soon gave signs of returning animation. Opening her eyes, she glanced wildly at her father, as if to interrogate him whether that were really true which appeared to have been haunting her like a horrid dream.
"Father—father," she murmured, grasping his hands; "you will not—no, you will not do what you have said! Oh! I implore you—I conjure—sacrifice not your own happiness and mine at the same instant! I was not mistaken in one syllable that I overheard between that woman and that man—and their discourse filled me with horror. She is his paramour, father—she is in a way to become a mother——"
"Silence, daughter!" cried Mr. Torrens, sternly. "And now listen to me, while I make you acquainted with my commands! Not only is it my intention to marry Mrs. Slingsby, but I desire that you will treat her with respect—if not with affection. And as you value my love and the continuance of my kindness, you will observe these instructions. If any thing more be wanting to induce you to comply with my desire, that additional argument will, perhaps, be found in the fact that if I do not marry Mrs. Slingsby, I shall be ruined—utterly undone—my property wrested from me—my person conveyed to a prison—and you thrust out, houseless and penniless, into the wide world, without a soul to protect or befriend you. Now I have told you all—and it is for you to decide whether your prejudices shall prevail against my most substantial interests."
Rosamond was astounded at the words which met her ears; and she knew not how to reply.
For a few moments she stood gazing vacantly upon her father's countenance, as if to read thereon a confirmation of words, the import of which seemed too terrible to be true: then, probably experiencing the necessity of seeking the solitude of her own chamber for the purpose of giving vent to the overflowing fulness of her heart's emotions, she hurried from the room.
Poor friendless girl! dreadful was the position in which she found herself placed! Oh! why were not Clarence and Adelais near to console her—to receive her beneath their protecting influence? Alas! she would not have dared to face them, even were they in the metropolis at the time; for she could not have revealed to them her dishonour—Oh! no, she would sooner have died!
Throwing herself on a seat in the privacy of her bed-chamber, she burst into tears, and gave vent to her anguish in heart-rending sobs.
An hour passed—and still she thought not of retiring to rest;—she was in a state of utter despair!
She heard her father ascend to his chamber: but this circumstance reminded her not that the usual hour when she herself sought her couch had gone by.