My father's coldness of manner had not altered since his return to
London. On my side, I carefully abstained from uttering a word before
him, which bore the smallest reference to my real situation. Although
when we met, we outwardly preserved the usual relations of parent and
child, the estrangement between us had now become complete.

Clara did not fail to perceive this, and grieved over it in secret.
Other and happier feelings, however, became awakened within her, when
I privately hinted that the time for disclosing my secret to my sister
was not far off. She grew almost as much agitated as I was, though by
very different expectations--she could think of nothing else but the
explanation and the surprise in store for her. Sometimes, I almost
feared to keep her any longer in suspense; and half regretted having
said anything on the subject of the new and absorbing interest of my
life, before the period when I could easily have said all.

Mr. Sherwin and I had not latterly met on the most cordial terms. He
was dissatisfied with me for not having boldly approached the subject
of my marriage in my father's presence; and considered my reasons for
still keeping it secret, as dictated by morbid apprehension, and as
showing a total want of proper firmness. On the other hand, he was
obliged to set against this omission on my part, the readiness I had
shown in meeting his wishes on all remaining points. My life was
insured in Margaret's favour; and I had arranged to be called to the
bar immediately, so as to qualify myself in good time for every
possible place within place-hunting range. My assiduity in making
these preparations for securing Margaret's prospects and mine against
any evil chances that might happen, failed in producing the favourable
effect on Mr. Sherwin, which they must assuredly have produced on a
less selfish man. But they obliged him, at least, to stop short at