Maxwell Drewitt

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1866 Excerpt: ...son; because my father married and had children; because he hates us," finished Brian Drewitt, " as I hate him." Mr. Pryor turned and looked at the boy as he spoke these last words. There was a something more terrible than any passion could have been in the stern restraint of Brian's manner; in the strong curb he seemed to put on himself--on his words, on his gestures. There was no fury--no outbreak of rage--no outburst of violent indignation. He spoke of hate--sullenly, calmly--without a change of color, without a variation in his voice. " Why do you hate him?" inquired Mr. Pryor. " Because I do. That is not a very civil answer, you will say, and yet it is the best I can give you. Why I hate him I feel; but I could not explain what I feel, except that I know he wants to grind me under his foot as I grind this gravel," and Brian stamped his heel upon the ground; " but he shall never have the chance, I swear." " But for a young man of property " argued Mr. Pryor. " I am not a young man of property," the youth replied. Have you really no idea how we are actually situated? Do not mention it to my mother, because she thinks that Kincorth is clear, at any rate; but Kincorth is mortgaged, like every-thing else. We have not an acre of land that is not owned by strangers, and I am quite confident if anything were to happen to my father, and that the mortgagees sold the estates, Maxwell would buy them all, and then where should we be?" " Where should you be whoever bought them?" asked his companion. " It would not matter whether he or Queen Victoria bought them so long as they were sold." " No; only so far as this, that perhaps one could do something with other people, whi...


Genre: Literary Fiction