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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"My Young Alcides"

I should like the walk with you."
"I can't go home yet. I have something to do. I must make up these
books."
"But why? There can't be any haste."
"Yes. I shall put them into Yolland's hands and go by the next
mail."
"Harold! You promised to stay till Eustace was in good hands."
He laughed harshly. "You have learnt what my promise is worth!"
"Oh Harold! don't. You were cheated and betrayed. They took a
wicked advantage of you."
"I knew what I was about," he said, with the same grim laugh at my
folly. "What is a man worth who has lost his self-command?"
"He may regain it," I gasped out, for his look and manner frightened
me dreadfully.
He made an inarticulate sound of scorn, but, seeing perhaps the
distress in my face, he added more gently, "No, Lucy, this is really
best; I am not fit to be with you. I have broken my word of honour,
and lost all that these months had gained. I should only drag
Eustace down if I stayed."
"Why? Oh, why? It was through their deceit. Oh, Harry! there is
not such harm done that you cannot retrieve."
"No," he said, emphatically. "Understand what you are asking. My
safeguard of an unbroken word is gone! The longing for that stuff--
accursed though I know it--is awakened. Nothing but shame at giving
way before these poor fellows that I have preached temperance to
withholds me at this very moment.


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