Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 79: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SS Se os A ———— —— - A Se =_ ee ee ee — — SS Ef a Ee SS Mr. Timperley: I have told you so before. ——- ee eee AGNES; OR, BRAUTY AND PLEASURE. 71 plies her purse. Yet if so, she is consummately skilful in the art of hypocrisy.” ‘“‘T wish we could find out, Mr. Timperley,” said Sir John. “It would be a fine card for us to) play, if we could by any means deprive the girl of ber resources. The old man would in that case be apeedily starved into a surrender: and instead of offering him a third, we could make him content himself with a sixth, or even a tenth portion of all he claims.” “IT will think how it is to be managed,” an- swered Mr. Timperley. ‘“ Rest assured, Sir John, that whatsoever [ can do to meet your views or forward your interests, shall be done! And now I will take my departure.” “ Stop !—one word !” ejaculated the old Baronet. “Do you ever happen to meet my son?” “Very, very rarely,’ answered the solicitor. “We merely bow and pass te “To be sure! that’s right!” interrupted the Baronet. “TI would not for the world he should suspect anything of what is going on betwixt you and me. Roderick is a strange fellow, you know, He already entertains a strong opinion about this ease: he considers that Barrington is ill-treated— and if he once knew how excellent an understand- ing subsists between you and me 4 “ But be does not know it—and he must not know it!” said the lawyer emphatically. “ Never from my lips shall a syllable drop “ “Heaven knows none shall ever fall from mine!” exclaimed Sir John. ‘TI shall outlive that old villain Barrington yet; and in one way or another I shall conquer ere I die. Buf if, Mr. Timperley, by one of those casualties which do sometimes cut short men who might naturally hope | to live many years,—if, I say, a premature death | should overtake me, that son of mine would make | a perfect fool of himself in respect to this lawsuit —he will be for giving up everything to the Bar- ringtons—he will leave himself a perfect beggar— | he will inherit a title without a shilling to main- tainit! Yousee, Mr. Timperley, that all these reflections are very painful indeed ; and there are times when, I assure you, I am driven to my wits’ | ends.” ‘* But Mr. Dalham has never entered so deeply | into the merits of the suit,” observed Timperley, | “as to be aware of the real excellence of Barring- | ton’s claim, or to suspect the chicaneries by means | of which you have been so long fencing it offP At | jeast, my dear Sir John, I think that such is the | assurance you have often given me P” | ““Tt is a long time Mr, Timperley, since you and I happened to speak on that particular subject,” rejoined the Baronet. ‘“ Several times I have been on the point of telling you, when something has always transpired to prevent it, that within the last two or three years—I do not exactly re- collect how long—Roderick has seemed to take a | greater interest in this suit; he has made more inquiries—he has looked deeper into it—he has been | to my solicitors—in short, I don’t know how it is, but it was only a little while ago he was suggest- ing that if I and Barrington agreed to halve the whole property es “And you, Sir John, of course scorned the | idea ?” exclaimed Mr. Timperley. ‘‘Aye—and more than that,” continued the ; re - r | vicinage of Whitecross Street Prison. Baronet, with a fiendishly maiignant expression of countenance, “ I vowed that I would invoke the bitterest curses on Roderick’s head if he ever darad again plead before me on behalf of those Barring- tons. I took the most deadly oath that I would cover him with my maledictions if he ventured to seek them, speak to them, or succour them in any way. More than once have I spoken in these terms to Roderick within the last two or three years; and he has been touched by my words—for he has always been accustomed to regard me with respect. You know, my dear Mr. Timperley, how wild he was wont to be—how he used to plunge headlong into debt—and how I invariably came forward to extricate him from his difficulties, | Well, he is not ungrateful—he knows, between you and me, that if as a father I have not set him the most moral of examples, yet that at all events I have ever been a most indulgent parent.” “True, Sir John!” said the solicitor: ‘and rest assured that Mr. Dalham will continue to do his duty towards you while you live, and be faithful to your memory when you shal: have gone hence.” “© Nevertheless,” exclaimed the baronet, “let us leave nothing to posthumous chances; but let us do all we can either to break old Burrington’s heart, or else to starve him into a surrender with the least possible delay. Perhaps one of these aims may be accomplished through the medium of ‘his grand daughter? At all events you will see— you must make inquiries about her—you must not let the grass grow under your feet,” “Trust to me, Sir John,” replied Timperley: and he then took his leave of the old Baronet. On issuing forth ‘from the grounds attached to the villa, the solicitor was wending his way through the fields, when he beheld the subject of the concluding part of his discourse with the Baronet approaching from a little distance. This was Mr. Dalham. He was walking slowly, and in a thoughtful mood, with his eyes bent downward. Timperley saw that he was as yet unnoticed by that gentleman; and not caring to fall in with him, he at once struck off behind a hedge which concealed him from Mr. Dalham’s view. He thus escaped an encounter with the Baronet’s son. ——— CHAPTER XiV. THE ACCUSATION. We must now direct the attention of the reader to a couple of decently-furnished rooms on the second floor of a respectable house in Aldersgate Street. This street, we may observe for the bene- fit of those readers who may not happen to be well acquainted with the metropolis, is in the obose The two rooms to which we have alluded, constituted the lodging of Winifred Barrington. It was at about half-past four o'clock in the afternoon of the day of which we are writing, that Winifred returned to her abode, with her bandbox and bundle. She had ridden from Camden Town in an omnibus, to the nearest point where the vehicle could deposit her; and she had therce hurriedly walked homeward. On knocking at the door, admission was at once given her Conn tn eg eeeenenesinee—ees er | | | | | cElooolkks CO