about to foreclose,--Fawley about to pass forever from the race of the
Darrells. I saw that the day my father was driven from the old house
would be his last on earth. What means to save him?--how raise the
pitiful sum--but a few thousands--by which to release from the spoiler's
gripe those barren acres which all the lands of the Seymour or the Gower
could never replace in my poor father's eyes? My sole income was a
college fellowship, adequate to all my wants, but useless for sale or
loan. I spent the night in vain consultation with Fairthorn. There
seemed not a hope. Next morning came a letter from young Vipont Crooke.
It was manly and frank, though somewhat coarse. With the consent of his
parents he offered me his sister's hand, and a dowry of L10,000. He
hinted, in excuse for his bluntness, that, perhaps from motives of
delicacy, if I felt a preference for his sister, I might not deem myself
rich enough to propose, and--but it matters not what else he said. You
foresee the rest. My father's life could be saved from despair; his
beloved home be his shelter to the last. That dowry would more than
cover the paltry debt upon the lands. I gave myself not an hour to
pause. I hastened back to the house to which fate had led me. But,"
said Darrell, proudly, "do not think I was base enough, even with such
excuses, to deceive the young lady. I told her what was true; that I
could not profess to her the love painted by romance-writers and poets;
but that I loved no other, and that if she deigned to accept my hand,
I should studiously consult her happiness and gratefully confide to her
my own."

"I said also, what was true, that if she married me, ours must be for
some years a life of privation and struggle; that even the interest of
her fortune must be devoted to my father while he lived, though every
shilling of its capital would be settled on herself and her children.
How I blessed her when she accepted me, despite my candour!--how