The Absentee Read Online Free PDF

have no thoughts of
marrying at present—and that I never will marry for money. Marrying an
heiress is not even a new way of paying old debts—at all events, it is
one to which no distress could persuade me to have recourse; and as I
must, if I outlive old Mr. Quin, have an independent fortune, THERE IS
NO occasion to purchase one by marriage.'
    'There is no distress, that I know of, in the case,' cried Lady
Clonbrony. 'Where is your imagination running, Colambre? But merely for
your establishment, your independence.'
    'Establishment, I want none—independence I do desire, and will
preserve. Assure my father, my DEAR MOTHER, that I will not be
an expense to him. I will live within the allowance he made me at
Cambridge—I will give up half of it—I will do anything for his
convenience—but marry for money, that I cannot do.'
    'Then, Colambre, you are very disobliging,' said Lady Clonbrony, with an
expression of disappointment and displeasure; 'for your father says,
if you don't marry Miss Broadhurst, we can't live in Lon'on another
winter.'
    This said—which, had she been at the moment mistress of herself, she
would not have let out—Lady Clonbrony abruptly quitted the room. Her
son stood motionless, saying to himself—
    'Is this my mother?—How altered!'
    The next morning he seized an opportunity of speaking to his father,
whom he caught, with difficulty, just when he was going out, as usual,
for the day. Lord Colambre, with all the respect due to his father, and
with that affectionate manner by which he always knew how to soften the
strength of his expressions, made nearly the same declarations of his
resolution, by which his mother had been so much surprised and offended.
Lord Clonbrony seemed more embarrassed, but not so much displeased. When
Lord Colambre adverted, as delicately as he could, to the selfishness of
desiring from him the sacrifice of liberty for life, to say nothing of
his affections, merely to enable his family to make a splendid figure
in London, Lord Clonbrony exclaimed, 'That's all nonsense!—cursed
nonsense! That's the way we are obliged to state the thing to your
mother, my dear boy, because I might talk her deaf before she would
understand or listen to anything else. But, for my own share, I don't
care a rush if London was sunk in the salt sea. Little Dublin for my
money, as Sir Terence O'Fay says.'
    'Who is Sir Terence O'Fay, may I ask, sir?'
    'Why, don't you know Terry? Ay, you've been so long at Cambridge, I
forgot. And did you never see Terry?'
    'I have seen him, sir—I met him yesterday at Mr. Mordicai's, the
coachmaker's.'
    'Mordicai's!' exclaimed Lord Clonbrony, with a sudden blush, which
he endeavoured to hide by taking snuff. 'He is a damned rascal, that
Mordicai! I hope you didn't believe a word he said—nobody does that
knows him.'
    'I am glad, sir, that you seem to know him so well, and to be upon your
guard against him,' replied Lord Colambre; 'for, from what I heard of
his conversation, when he was not aware who I was, I am convinced he
would do you any injury in his power.'
    'He shall never have me in his power, I promise him. We shall take care
of that. But what did he say?'
    Lord Colambre repeated the substance of what Mordicai had said, and Lord
Clonbrony reiterated—'Damned rascal!—damned rascal! I'll get out
of his hands; I'll have no more to do with him.' But, as he spoke,
he exhibited evident symptoms of uneasiness, moving continually, and
shifting from leg to leg like a foundered horse.
    He could not bring himself positively to deny that he had debts and
difficulties; but he would by no means open the state of his affairs
to his son—'No father is called upon to do that,' said he to himself;
'none but a fool would do it.'
    Lord Colambre, perceiving his father's embarrassment, withdrew his eyes,
respectfully refrained from all further inquiries, and simply repeated
the assurance he had made to his mother, that he would put his family to
no additional expense; and