death! Nay, no pretty denials! But the great object of my visit to this
place is accomplished: I have seen you, I have witnessed your debut in
the great world, with, I may say, more than a father's exultation, and I
go back to my dry pursuits with the satisfaction of thinking our old and
withered genealogical tree has put forth one blossom worthy of its
freshest day."

"Uncle!" said Lucy, reprovingly, and holding up her taper finger with an
arch smile, mingling with a blush, in which the woman's vanity spoke,
unknown to herself.

"And why that look, Lucy?" said Brandon.

"Because--because--well, no matter! you have been bred to that trade in
which, as you say yourself, men tell untruths for others till they lose
all truth for themselves. But let us talk of you, not me; are you really
well enough to leave us?"

Simple and even cool as the words of Lucy's question, when written,
appear, in her mouth they took so tender, so anxious a tone, that
Brandon, who had no friend nor wife nor child, nor any one in his
household in whom interest in his health or welfare was a thing of
course, and who was consequently wholly unaccustomed to the accent of
kindness, felt himself of a sudden touched and stricken.

"Why, indeed, Lucy," said he, in a less artificial voice than that in
which he usually spoke, "I should like still to profit by your cares, and
forget my infirmities and pains in your society; but I cannot: the tide
of events, like that of nature, waits not our pleasure!"