of follies and delusions now no more: only this will I say, that I have
ever felt, in thinking of your father, and even of your sterner uncle,
as if my conscience reminded me of a debt which I longed to discharge,--
if not to them, to their children. So when we knew you, believe me that
your interests, your career, instantly became to me an object. But
mistaking you, when I saw your ardent industry bent on serious objects,
and accompanied by a mind so fresh and buoyant, and absorbed as I was in
schemes or projects far beyond a woman's ordinary province of hearth and
home, I never dreamed, while you were our guest,--never dreamed of
danger to you or Fanny. I wound you,--pardon me; but I must vindicate
myself. I repeat that if we had a son to inherit our name, to bear the
burden which the world lays upon those who are born to influence the
world's destinies, there is no one to whom Trevanion and myself would
sooner have intrusted the happiness of a daughter. But my daughter is
the sole representative of the mother's line, of the father's name: it
is not her happiness alone that I have to consult, it is her duty,--duty
to her birthright, to the career of the noblest of England's patriots;
duty, I may say, without exaggeration, to the country for the sake of
which that career is run!"

"Say no more, Lady Ellinor, say no more; I understand you. I have no
hope, I never had hope--it was a madness--it is over. It is but as a
friend that I ask again if I may see Miss Trevanion in your presence
before--before I go alone into this long exile, to leave, perhaps, my
dust in a stranger's soil! Ay, look in my face,--you cannot fear my
resolution, my honor, my truth! But once, Lady Ellinor,--but once more.
Do I ask in vain?"

Lady Ellinor was evidently much moved. I bent down almost in the
attitude of kneeling; and brushing away her tears with one hand, she