Colonel Colleton proceeded as if the last speech had not been uttered.

"Edith has a claim in society which shall not be sacrificed. Her father,
Ralph, did not descend to the hovel of the miserable peasant, choosing a
wife from the inferior grade, who, without education, and ignorant of
all refinement, could only appear a blot upon the station to which she
had been raised. Her mother, sir, was not a woman obscure and
uneducated, for whom no parents could be found."

"What means all this, sir? Speak, relieve me at once, Colonel Colleton.
What know you of my mother?"

"Nothing--but quite as much as your father ever knew. It is sufficient
that he found her in a hovel, without a name, and with the silly romance
of his character through life, he raised her to a position in society
which she could not fill to his honor, and which, finally, working upon
his pride and sensibility drove him into those extravagances which in
the end produced his ruin. I grant that she loved him with a most
perfect devotion, which he too warmly returned, but what of that?--she
was still his destroyer."

Thus sternly did the colonel unveil to the eyes of Ralph Colleton a
portion of the family picture which he had never been permitted to
survey before.

Cold drops stood on the brow of the now nerveless and unhappy youth. He
was pale, and his eyes were fixed for an instant; but, suddenly
recovering himself, he rushed hastily from the apartment before his
uncle could interpose to prevent him. He heard not or heeded not the
words of entreaty which called him back; but, proceeding at once to his