pulse is wholly and only true to him with whom I have schemed and toiled
and aspired; with whom I have grown as one; with whom I have shared the
struggle, and now partake the triumph, realizing the visions of my
youth."

Again the light broke from the dark eyes of this grand daughter of the
world, who was so superb a type of that moral contradiction,--an
ambitious woman.

"I cannot tell you," resumed Lady Ellinor, softening, "how pleased I was
when you came to live with us. Your father has perhaps spoken to you of
me and of our first acquaintance!"

Lady Ellinor paused abruptly, and surveyed me as she paused. I was
silent.

"Perhaps, too, he has blamed me?" she resumed, with a heightened color.

"He never blamed you, Lady Ellinor!"

"He had a right to do so,--though I doubt if he would have blamed me on
the true ground. Yet no; he never could have done me the wrong that
your uncle did when, long years ago, Mr. de Caxton in a letter--the very
bitterness of which disarmed all anger--accused me of having trifled
with Austin,--nay, with himself! And he, at least, had no right to
reproach me," continued Lady Ellinor warmly, and with a curve of her
haughty lip; "for if I felt interest in his wild thirst for some
romantic glory, it was but in the hope that what made the one brother so
restless might at least wake the other to the ambition that would have
become his intellect and aroused his energies. But these are old tales