His father, who died before him, had left him no fortune, and even had
not provided for his wife or child. His brother made another ineffectual
attempt to accomplish a reconciliation; but his proffers of love and
fortune were alike scorned and himself insulted, and Arundel Dacre
seemed to gloat on the idea that he was an outcast and a beggar.
Yet even this strange being had his warm feelings. He adored his wife,
particularly because his father had disowned her. He had a friend whom
he idolised, and who, treating his occasional conduct as a species
of insanity, had never deserted him. This friend had been his college
companion, and, in the odd chapter of circumstances, had become a
powerful political character. Dacre was a man of talent, and his friend
took care that he should have an opportunity of displaying it. He was
brought into Parliament, and animated by the desire, as he thought, of
triumphing over his family, he exerted himself with success. But his
infernal temper spoiled all. His active quarrels and his noisy brawls
were even more endurable than his sullen suspicions, his dark hints, and
his silent hate.
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