I should not care for that; he might do as he pleased, if I might only be free to amuse myself and to stay in London, or have a few friends down here. . .but he will do hs ae pleases—and I must be a prisoner and a slave. The moment he saw I could enjoy myself without him, and that others knew my value better than himself, the selfish wretch began to accuse me of coquetry and extravagance, and to abuse Harry Meltham whose shoes he was not worthy to clean;—and then, he must needs have me down in the country to lead the life of a nun, lest I should dishonour him or bring him to ruin, as if he had not been ten times worse every way—with his betting book, and his gaming table, and his opera girls, and his Lady this and Mrs. that—yes, and his bottles of wine, and glasses of brandy and water too—filthy beast! Oh, I would give ten thousand worlds to be Miss Murray again! It is too bad to feel life, health, and beauty wasting away, unfelt and unenjoyed, for such a brute as that!" exclaimed she, fairly bursting into tears in the bitterness of her vexation.
Of course, I pitied her exceedingly, as well for her false idea of happiness and disregard of duty, as for the wretched partner with whom her fate was linked.
