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Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield, 1804-1881

"Venetia"

He had dwelt with fondness on the insignificant past,
because it was connected with her; he had regretted, or affected
even to despise, the glorious present, because it seemed, for some
indefinite cause, to have estranged him from her hearth. Yes! he had
humbled himself before her; he had thrown with disdain at her feet all
that dazzling fame and expanding glory which seemed his peculiar and
increasing privilege. He had delicately conveyed to her that even
these would be sacrificed, not only without a sigh, but with cheerful
delight, to find himself once more living, as of old, in the limited
world of her social affections. Three years ago he had been rejected
by the daughter, because he was an undistinguished youth. Now the
mother recoiled from his fame. And who was this woman? The same cold,
stern heart that had alienated the gifted Herbert; the same narrow,
rigid mind that had repudiated ties that every other woman in the
world would have gloried to cherish and acknowledge. And with her he
had passed his prejudiced youth, and fancied, like an idiot, that he
had found sympathy! Yes, so long as he was a slave, a mechanical,
submissive slave, bowing his mind to all the traditionary bigotry
which she adored, never daring to form an opinion for himself,
worshipping her idol, custom, and labouring by habitual hypocrisy to
perpetuate the delusions of all around her!
In the meantime, while Lord Cadurcis was chewing the cud of these
bitter feelings, we will take the opportunity of explaining the
immediate cause of Lady Annabel's frigid reception of his friendly
advances.


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