When this adored brother fell shot through the lungs in the
hopeless defence of Lady Blackwater's reputation, it would have been
natural enough that Markham should hate the woman who had been the
occasion of such a calamity. The sister, a pious and devoted Christian,
had indeed hated her, properly and duly, thenceforward. Markham, on the
contrary, accepted his brother's last commission without reluctance. In
this matter at least Lady Blackwater had not been directly to blame; his
mind acquitted her; and her soft, distressed beauty touched his heart.
Before he knew where he was she had made an impression upon him that was
to be life-long.
Then gradually he awoke to a full knowledge of her character. He
suffered, but otherwise it made no difference. Finding it was then
impossible to persuade her to marry him, he watched over her as best he
could for some years, passing through phases of alternate hope and
disgust. His sister's affection for him was clouded by his strange
relation to the Jezebel who in her opinion had destroyed their brother.
He could not help it; he could only do his best to meet both claims upon
him.
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