nothing but what the law allows. If she be dead, nobody can say that I
am to blame!"

"To blame?--All the world will abhor and curse you. Were you such a
fool as to think, because men pay respect to wealth and rank, this would
extend to such a deed? They will laugh at so barefaced a cheat. The
meanest beggar will spurn and spit at you. Ay, you may well stand
confounded at what you have done. I will proclaim you to the whole
world, and you will be obliged to fly the very face of a human
creature!"

"Good woman," said Mr. Tyrrel, extremely humbled, "talk no more in this
strain!--Emmy is not dead! I am sure--I hope--she is not dead!--Tell me
that you have only been deceiving me, and I will forgive you every
thing--I will forgive her--I will take her into favour--I will do any
thing you please!--I never meant her any harm!"

"I tell you she is dead! You have murdered the sweetest innocent that
lived! Can you bring her back to life, as you have driven her out of it?
If you could, I would kneel to you twenty times a day! What is it you
have done?--Miserable wretch! did you think you could do and undo, and
change things this way and that, as you pleased?"

The reproaches of Mrs. Hammond were the first instance in which Mr.
Tyrrel was made to drink the full cup of retribution. This was, however,
only a specimen of a long series of contempt, abhorrence, and insult,
that was reserved for him. The words of Mrs. Hammond were prophetic. It
evidently appeared, that though wealth and hereditary elevation operate
as an apology for many delinquencies, there are some which so
irresistibly address themselves to the indignation of mankind, that,