There
seemed to be a fatality about my father's wives; for the
beautiful Honorine lived scarcely longer than her predecessor,
and she died, leaving three children - all born at one time - you
know them well, and one of them you love. To my care she
intrusted them on her deathbed, and she could have scarcely
intrusted them to worse; for, though I liked her, I most
decidedly disliked them. They were lovely children - their
lovely mother's image; and they were named Hubert, Leoline, and
Honorine, or, as you knew her, Miranda. Even my father did not
seem to care for them much, not even as much as he cared for me;
and when he lay on his deathbed, one year later, I was left,
young as I was, their sole guardian, and trustee of all his
wealth. That wealth was not fairly divided - one-half being left
to me and the other half to be shared equally between them; but,
in my wicked ambition, I was not satisfied even with that. Some
of my father's fierce and cruel nature I inherited; and I
resolved to be clear of these three stumbling-blocks, and
recompense myself for my other misfortunes by every indulgence
boundless riches could bestow.
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