"I am satisfied," replied Maltravers, after a pause, and in a voice that
expressed more than his words.

There is in some natures so great a hoard of generosity, that it often
dulls their acuteness. Maltravers could not believe that frankness
could be wholly a mask--it was an hypocrisy he knew not of. He himself
was not incapable, had circumstances so urged him, of great crimes; nay,
the design of one crime lay at that moment deadly and dark within his
heart, for he had some passions which in so resolute a character could
produce, should the wind waken them into storm, dire and terrible
effects. Even at the age of thirty, it was yet uncertain whether Ernest
Maltravers might become an exemplary or an evil man. But he could
sooner have strangled a foe than taken the hand of a man whom he had
once betrayed.

"I love to think you friends," said Florence, gazing at them
affectionately, "and to you, at least, Lumley, such friendship should be
a blessing. I always loved you much and dearly, Lumley--loved you as a
brother, though our characters often jarred."

Lumley winced. "For Heaven's sake," he cried, "do not speak thus
tenderly to me--I cannot bear it, and look on you and think--"

"That I am dying. Kind words become us best when our words are
approaching to the last. But enough of this--I grieved for your loss."

"My poor uncle!" said Lumley, eagerly changing the conversation--"the
shock was sudden; and melancholy duties have absorbed me so till this
day, that I could not come even to you. It soothed me, however, to
learn, in answer to my daily inquiries, that Ernest was here. For my