Sink or Swim? , Volume III by Matilda Charlotte Houstoun

On his return home, two hours later, and after gleaning all the slender / information in his power regarding the proceedings of his enemy, / Arthur -- his pocket full of certain ugly-looking letters which he had / found to his address at the Travellers' -- was in anything but a / quietly-domestic frame of mind. With the exception of Honor -- whose / lovely eyes, as he had last seen them, tearful and full of piteous / pleading -- the idea of contact with no single human creature with whom he / was connected afforded him the slightest pleasure. On the contrary, the / thought of his young wife, ready, longing even to throw her weak white / arms round his neck, was positively distasteful to him; the prospect of / listening to old Dub's paternal twaddle he turned from with disgust; / whilst the feeble cry of his one-day old heir-apparent was likely to / awaken no responsive feelings in his agitated breast. On the whole, the / state of feeling in which Arthur Vavasour found himself on that bright / May afternoon may be described as a reckless one. He was soured, / discontented, almost despairing. Lines of care were deepening on his / brow, and it needed not the fresh blow that awaited him in / Hyde-park-terrace to convince Arthur Vavasour that he was doomed to / misfortune, and marked out for a large share of the miseries to which / flesh is heir.

"A letter that looks like business," Mr. Duberly said, as his son-in-law / opened a missive of large dimensions, sealed with a big seal, and / altogether portentous of aspect. "From the lawyers," continued the old / man, "ain't it?"