Mr. Blackmore Blackett esteems himself an extremely lucky fellow in
having so advantageously procured such a nice piece of property,--so
suited to his taste. Her price, when compared with her singularly
valuable charms, is a mere nothing; and, too, all his fashionable
friends will congratulate him upon his good fortune. But as
disappointments will come, so Mr. Blackmore Blackett finds he has
got something not quite so valuable as anticipated; however, being
something of a philosopher, he will improve upon the course pursued
by the younger Choicewest: he makes his first advances with great
caution; whispers words of tenderness in her ear; tells her his
happy jewel for life she must be. Remembering her mother, she turns
a deaf ear to Mr. Blackett's pleadings. The very cabin which he has
provided for her in the yard reminds her of that familiar domicile
on Marston's plantation. Neither by soft pleadings, nor threatenings
of sale to plantation life, nor terrors of the lash, can he soften
the creature's sympathies, so that the flesh may succumb. When he
whispered soft words and made fascinating promises, she would shake
her head and move from him; when he threatened, she would plead her
abject position; when he resorted to force, she would struggle with
him, making the issue her virtue or death. Once she paid the penalty
of her struggles with a broken wrist, which she shows us more in
sorrow than anger. Annette is beautiful but delicate; has soft eyes
beaming with the fulness of a great soul; but they were sold,
once,--now, sympathy for her is dead.
Pages:
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644