both not to conceal it."

A ray of hope darted through Fairthorn's enraged and bewildered mind. He
looked to the right--he looked to the left; no one near. Releasing his
hold on the doe, he made a sidelong dart towards Sophy, and said: "Hush;
do you really care what becomes of Mr. Darrell?"

"To be sure I do."

"You would not wish him to die broken-hearted in a foreign land--that old
house levelled to the ground and buried in the lake? Eh, Miss--eh?"

"How can you ask me such questions?" said Sophy, faintly. "Do speak
plainly, and at once."

"Well, I will, Miss. I believe you are a good young lady, after all--and
don't wish really to bring disgrace upon all who want to keep you in the
dark, and--"

"Disgrace!" interrupted Sopby; and her pure spirit rose, and the soft
blue eye flashed a ray like a shootingstar.

"No, I am sure you would not like it; and some time or other you could
not help knowing, and you would be very sorry for it. And that boy
Lionel, who was as proud as Guy Darrell himself when I saw him last
(prouder indeed)--that he should be so ungrateful to his benefactor!
And, indeed, the day may come when he may turn round on you, or on the
lame old gentleman, and say he has been disgraced. Should not wonder at
all! Young folks when they are sweet-hearting only talk about roses and
angels, and such-like; but when husbands and wives fall out, as they