Frank Fairlegh, or, Scenes from the life of a private pupil . which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.—Shaketpeare. The sight which met my eyes as I gazed around was one which timecan never eiface from my memory. In the centre of the room, hisbrow darkened by the flush of concentrated indignation, stoodOaklands, his left hand clenching tightly the coat-collar of a man,whom I at once perceived to be Wilford, while with his right handhe was administering such a horsewhipping as I hope never again tosee a human being subjected to. Wilford, who actually wi-ithed withmingled pai
Frank Fairlegh, or, Scenes from the life of a private pupil . which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.—Shaketpeare. The sight which met my eyes as I gazed around was one which timecan never eiface from my memory. In the centre of the room, hisbrow darkened by the flush of concentrated indignation, stoodOaklands, his left hand clenching tightly the coat-collar of a man,whom I at once perceived to be Wilford, while with his right handhe was administering such a horsewhipping as I hope never again tosee a human being subjected to. Wilford, who actually wi-ithed withmingled pain and fury, was making violent but ineffectual strugglesto free himself. Near the door stood Wentwoi-th, the blood drippingfrom his nose, and his clothes dusty and disorderly, as if from a in a corner at the farther end of the room, the tearsoom-sing down her fear-blanched cheeks, and her hands clasped in anagony of terror and despair, was a girl, about nineteen years of age,whom I had little difficulty in recognizing as Lizzie Maurice, the. ^ o FRANK FAIRLEGH 161 daughter of tlie old confectioner, of whose elopement we had beenthat morning informed. On perceiving me she sprang forward,and clasping my knees, implored me to interfere and endeavoui toseparate them. I was not, however, called upon to do so, for, as shespoke, his riding whip broke short in Oaklands hand, and dashingdown the fragments with an exclamation of impatience, he flungWilford from him with so much force that he staggered forward afew paces, and would have fallen, had not Wentworth caught him inhis arms just in time to prevent it. Oaklands then turned to the girl, whom I had raised from theground and placed on a chair, and addressing her in a stern, impres-sive manner, said, I will now resume what I was saying to youwhen yonder beaten hound dared to lay hands upon me. For the lasttime the choice is offered to you—either return home, and endeavour,by devoting youi-self to your broken-heai-t
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