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

"Dora Thorne"

I do not wish to screen myself from
justice. I have to meet the wrath of Heaven, and that appalls me
as the anger of man never could. Send the officers of the law
for me. If I am not dead, let them take me; if I am, let them
bury me as they would a dog. I ask no mercy, no compassion nor
forgiveness; I do not merit it.
"If by any torture, any death, I could undo what I have done, and
save her, I would suffer the extremity of pain; but I can not.
My deed will be judged in eternity.
"My lord, I write this confession partly to ease my own
conscience, party to shield others from unjust blame. Do not
curse me because, through my mad jealousy, my miserable revenge,
as fair and pure a child as father ever loved has gone to her
rest."
So the strange letter concluded. Lord Earle read every word,
looking over and anon at the quiet, dead face that had kept the
secret hidden. Every word seemed burned in upon his brain; every
word seemed to rise before him like an accusing spirit.
He stood face to face at last with the sin of his youth; it had
found him out. The willful, wanton disobedience, the marriage
that had broken his father's heart, and struck Ronald himself
from the roll of useful men; the willful, cruel neglect of duty;
the throwing off of all ties; the indulgence in proud,
unforgiving temper, the abandonment of wife and children--all
ended there.


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