explained to him what Roland was in youth, and what he had dreamed
that a son would be to him. I showed him the graves of his
ancestors, and explained to him why they were sacred in Roland's
eyes. I had gained a great way when he longed to enter the home
that should have been his and I could make him pause of his own
accord and say, "No, I must first be worthy of it." Then you would
have smiled--sly satirist that you are--to have heard me impressing
upon this acute, sharp-witted youth all that we plain folk
understand by the name of Home,--its perfect trust and truth, its
simple holiness, its exquisite happiness, being to the world what
conscience is to the human mind. And after that I brought in his
sister, whom till then he had scarcely named, for whom he scarcely
seemed to care,--brought her in to aid the father and endear the
home. "And you know," said I, "that if Roland were to die, it
would be a brother's duty to supply his place,--to shield her
innocence, to protect her name! A good name is something, then.
Your father was not so wrong to prize it. You would like yours to
be that which your sister would be proud to own!"

While we were talking, Blanche suddenly came to the spot, and
rushed to my arms. She looked on him as a stranger, but I saw his
knees tremble. And then she was about to put her hand in his, but
I drew her back. Was I cruel? He thought so. But when I
dismissed her, I replied to his reproach: "Your sister is a part of
Home. If you think yourself worthy of either, go and claim both; I
will not object."

"She has my mother's eyes," said he, and walked away. I left him
to muse amidst the ruins, while I went in to see your poor mother
and relieve her fears about Roland and make her understand why I