disguise--this false name--must be for ever borne! Why need the
Beauforts, then, ever know who and what I am? Why not as your nephew--
nephew to one so respected and exemplary--proffer my claims and plead my
cause?"

"They are proud--so it is said--and worldly;--you know my family was in
trade--still--but--" and here Mr. Spencer broke off from a tone of doubt
into that of despondency, "but, recollect, though Mrs. Beaufort may not
remember the circumstance, both her husband and her son have seen me--
have known my name. Will they not suspect, when once introduced to you,
the stratagem that has been adopted?--Nay, has it not been from that very
fear that you have wished me to shun the acquaintance of the family?
Both Mr. Beaufort and Arthur saw you in childhood, and their suspicion
once aroused, they may recognise you at once; your features are
developed, but not altogether changed. Come, come!--my adopted, my dear
son, shake off this fantasy betimes: let us change the scene: I will
travel with you--read with you--go where--"

"Sir--sir!" exclaimed the lover, smiting his breast, "you are ever kind,
compassionate, generous; but do not--do not rob me of hope. I have
never--thanks to you--felt, save in a momentary dejection, the curse of
my birth. Now how heavily it falls! Where shall I look for comfort?"

As he spoke, the sound of a bell broke over the translucent air and the
slumbering lake: it was the bell that every eve and morn summoned that
innocent and pious family to prayer. The old man's face changed as he
heard it--changed from its customary indolent, absent, listless aspect,
into an expression of dignity, even of animation.

"Hark!" he said, pointing upwards; "Hark! it chides you. Who shall say,