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Brame, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Monica), 1836-1884

"Dora Thorne"

He was to claim me when he
returned. I never thought he would return; I was so happy, I
could not believe it." Here sobs choked her utterance.
Presently she continued: "Lily, he is here; he claims me, and
also the fulfillment of my promise to be his wife."
A look of unutterable dread came over the listener's fair,
pitying face.
"He wrote to me three weeks since; I tried to put him off. He
wrote again this morning, and swears he will see me. He will be
here tonight at nine o'clock. Oh, Lily, save me, save me, or I
shall die!"
Bitter sobs broke from the proud lips.
"I never knelt to any one before," Beatrice said; "I kneel to
you, my sister. No one else can help me. You must see him for
me, give him a letter from me, and tell him I am very ill. It is
no untruth, Lily. I am ill, my brain burns, and my heart is cold
with fear. Will you do this for me?"
"I would rather almost give you my life," said Lillian gently.
"Oh, do not say that, Lily! Do you know what there is at stake?
Do you remember papa's words--that, if ever he found one of us
guilty of any deceit, or involved in any clandestine love affair,
even if it broke his heart he would send the guilty one from him
and never see her again? Think, darling, what it would be for me
to leave Earlescourt--to leave all the magnificence I love so
dearly, and drag out a weary life at the Elms.


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