apparent meaning, and makes me suspect that you know more than you will
say."

"Diplomatist!" said Lady Ellinor, half smiling; but then, her face
settling into a seriousness almost severe, she added,--"it is terrible
to think that a father should hate his son!"

"Hate!--Roland hate his son! What calumny is this?"

"He does not do so, then! Assure me of that; I shall be so glad to know
that I have been misinformed."

"I can tell you this, and no more (for no more do I know), that if ever
the soul of a father were wrapped up in a son,--fear, hope, gladness,
sorrow, all reflected back on a father's heart from the shadows on a
son's life,--Roland was that father while the son lived still."

"I cannot disbelieve you!" exclaimed Lady Ellinor, though in a tone of
surprise. "Well, do let me see your uncle."

"I will do my best to induce him to visit you, and learn all that you
evidently conceal from me."

Lady Ellinor evasively replied to this insinuation, and shortly
afterwards I left that house in which I had known the happiness that
brings the folly, and the grief that bequeathes the wisdom.