Catherine Crowe

Once a Week (1860)

Summary

Catherine Crowe,  Once a Week (1860)

“ I wanted leisure to brood over my suspicions, for morbid suspicion, like morbid jealousy, “grows by what it feeds on!” the germ, once planted, it fell on such congenial soil, that it spread and spread till it had quite o’ermastered me.
Poor Clara must have found it a dull journey; however, it came to an end, and we arrived at Elfdale. She was struck with the beauty of the grounds—a gloomy beauty it is true; but even I, whether, because my taste was developed by time and travel, or whether because it was now my own, could not but acknowledge it.
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Source: Wikisource

Catherine Crowe,  Once a Week (1860)

“ Everything was acting, even my tenderness for Clara was acting, for a new element had sprung up and mingled with my love—hatred born of suspicion. Suspicion of what? I did not know; I could fix upon nothing; but there it was, a cormorant keeping itself alive by feeding greedily on every word, look, and action of my affianced bride and her relatives. Day and night I asked myself why they had been so ready to receive me on a footing of intimacy at first,—why they had been so eager for the match, and why they had never insisted on my father’s being consulted even in regard to the settlements. ”
Source: Wikisource

Catherine Crowe,  Once a Week (1860)

“ But for them I might have had a happy childhood, if my father’s heart had not been turned to stone by the criminality of Sir Ralph and my mother; how different might every thing have been with me through life! How well I understand his hatred of them! Oh! if he had but confided in me! And, ah! if I had but died believing myself only a victim and not a criminal!
On Lady Wellwood and her son’s arrival at Elfdale, they found Clara and her infant buried, and the secret that was to account for my extraordinary absence was buried with them.
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Source: Wikisource

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