earnestly I prayed that I might love and cherish and requite her!"
Darrell paused, in evident suffering. "And, thank Heaven! I have
nothing on that score wherewith to reproach myself; and the strength of
that memory enabled me to bear and forbear more than otherwise would have
been possible to my quick spirit and my man's heart. My dear father!
his death was happy: his home was saved; he never knew at what sacrifice
to his son! He was gladdened by the first honours my youth achieved. He
was resigned to my choice of a profession, which, though contrary to his
antique prejudices, that allowed to the representative of the Darrells no
profession but the sword, still promised the wealth which would secure
his name from perishing. He was credulous of my future, as if I had
uttered not a vow, but a prediction. He had blessed my union, without
foreseeing its sorrows. He had embraced my first-born,--true, it was a
girl, but it was one link onward from ancestors to posterity. And almost
his last words were these: 'You will restore the race; you will revive
the name! and my son's children will visit the antiquary's grave, and
learn gratitude to him for all that his idle lessons taught to your
healthier vigour.' And I answered, 'Father, your line shall not perish
from the land; and when I am rich and great, and lordships spread far
round the lowly hall that your life ennobled, I will say to your
grandchildren, 'Honour ye and your son's sons, while a Darrell yet treads
the earth, honour him to whom I owe every thought which nerved me to toil
for what you who come after me may enjoy.'

"And so the old man, whose life had been so smileless, died smiling."

By this time Lionel had stolen Darrell's hand into his own--his heart
swelling with childlike tenderness, and the tears rolling down his
cheeks.