The Last of the Barons — Volume 03 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
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page 7 of 84 (08%)
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purchase the precious gem, and the materials for the soluble elixir,
he saw that MONEY had been at work around him,--that he had been sleeping softly and faring sumptuously. He was seized with a divine rage. How had Sibyll dared to secrete from him this hoard; how presumed to waste upon the base body what might have so profited the eternal mind? In his relentless ardour, in his sublime devotion and loyalty to his abstract idea, there was a devouring cruelty, of which this meek and gentle scholar was wholly unconscious. The grim iron model, like a Moloch, ate up all things,--health, life, love; and its jaws now opened for his child. He rose from his bed,--it was daybreak,--he threw on his dressing-robe, he strode into his daughter's room; the gray twilight came through the comfortless, curtainless casement, deep sunk into the wall. Adam did not pause to notice that the poor child, though she had provoked his anger by refitting his dismal chamber, had spent nothing in giving a less rugged frown to her own. The scanty worm-worn furniture, the wretched pallet, the poor attire folded decently beside,--nothing save that inexpressible purity and cleanliness which, in the lowliest hovel, a pure and maiden mind gathers round it; nothing to distinguish the room of her whose childhood had passed in courts from the but of the meanest daughter of drudgery and toil! No,--he who had lavished the fortunes of his father and big child into the grave of his idea--no--he saw nothing of this self-forgetful penury--the diamond danced before him! He approached the bed; and oh! the contrast of that dreary room and peasant pallet to the delicate, pure, enchanting loveliness of the sleeping inmate. The scanty covering left partially exposed the snow- white neck and rounded shoulder; the face was pillowed upon the arm, in an infantine grace; the face was slightly flushed, and the fresh |
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