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Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue by Warren T. Ashton
page 14 of 383 (03%)

His position, resting, as it did, on the purpose of marrying the
heiress,--a purpose too deeply incorporated with his future prospects to
be resigned,--was now a desperate one. Through the long vista of
struggles and difficulties he saw his end, and the fact that he had to
some extent compromised his heart stimulated him still more to meet and
overcome the barriers that environed him.

For an hour after the lady's departure the young lawyer pondered the
obstacles which beset him. With the aspect of an angry rather than a
disappointed man, he paced the office with rapid and irregular strides.
He could devise no expedient. A lady's will is absolute, and he must
bend in submission. He blamed his own tardiness one moment, and his
precipitancy the next; then he cursed his ill luck, and vented his anger
and disappointment in a volley of oaths.

His meditations were again interrupted, by his attendant's announcement
of "Mr. Dumont."

"Ah, good-morning, sir! I was just on the point of going to Bellevue.
Nothing serious has happened, I trust," said Maxwell, laying aside, with
no apparent effort, his troubled visage, and assuming his usual bland
demeanor.

"Nothing," replied the visitor, gruffly.

"Your niece left the office an hour since," continued Maxwell. "She
requested me immediately to visit your brother."

"Which you have not done," returned the visitor, whom we will style
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