not so. I believe it to be a duty to take care of others beside myself. The
character and influence of an ancient family is a peculiar heritage--sacred
but destructible; and woe to him who either destroys or suffers it to
perish!'

This was the longest speech I ever heard my father speak before or after.
He abruptly resumed--

'Yes, we will, Maud--you and I--we'll leave one proof on record, which,
fairly read, will go far to convince the world.'

He looked round, but we were alone. The garden was nearly always solitary,
and few visitors ever approached the house from that side.

'I have talked too long, I believe; we are children to the last. Leave me,
Maud. I think I know you better than I did, and I am pleased with you. Go,
child--I'll sit here.'

If he had acquired new ideas of me, so had I of him from that interview. I
had no idea till then how much passion still burned in that aged frame, nor
how full of energy and fire that face, generally so stern and ashen, could
appear. As I left him seated on the rustic chair, by the steps, the traces
of that storm were still discernible on his features. His gathered brows,
glowing eyes, and strangely hectic face, and the grim compression of his
mouth, still showed the agitation which, somehow, in grey old age, shocks
and alarms the young.