ever looked on. A cloudless sky, a soft air, sunshine so joyous and dazzling that the commonest objects looked beautiful in its light, seemed to be mocking at me for m

aste, so unobtrusive, so rarely hinted at in words, and yet so firmly rooted in his nature, so intricately entwined with every one of his emotions, his aspirations, his simplest feelings and ideas: I thought on his almost feminine delicacy in shrinking from the barest mention of impurities which other men could carelessly discuss, or could laugh over as

, the shutting or opening of doors down stairs, must, on this momentous day, presage some mysterious calamity, some strange discovery, some secret project formed against me, I knew not how, or by whom. Two or three times I found myself listening intently on the staircase, with what object I could hardly tell. It was always, however, on those occasions, that a dread, sig

ubt was decided. One of the servants knocked at my door-the servant whose special duty it had been to wait on me

that, if you feel well enough, he

ivate sitting-room-it opened, and my sister came out and laid her hand on my arm. She smil

ken to you, think of me. All that our mother would have done for you, if she had bee

on down stairs. In the hall, the servant wa

hile ago. The messenger who brought it

t hand. I hastily put the letter into my pocket, barely noticing, as I did so,

ce into my f

that lay on it. Pointing to a chair placed opposite to him, he b

to compose and collect yourself.

hout thought or hope, or feeling of any kind, except a vague sense of thankfulness for the reprieve granted me before I was called on to speak-I mechanically looked round and round the room,

affliction, it can still recur to every-day trifles, in spite of ourselves. While I now sat silent in my father's room, long-forgotten associations of childhood connected with different parts of it, began to rise on my memory in the strangest and most startling in

high, old-fashioned, mahogany press before the window, with the same large illustrated folio about Jewish antiquities lying on it, which, years and years ago, Clara and I were sometimes allowed to look at, as a special treat, on Sunday afternoons; and which we always examined and re-examined with never-ending delight-standing together on two chairs to reach up to the thick, yellow-looking leaves, and turn them over with our own hands. And there, in the recess between two bookcases, still stood the ancient desk-table, with its rows of little inlaid drawers; and on the bracket above it the old French clock, which had once belonged to my

Distant, but yet well within hearing, the mighty murmur from a large thoroughfare-the great mid-day voice of London-swelled grandly and joyously on the ear. While, nearer still, in a street that ran past the side of the house, the notes of an organ rang out

fast; and yet I never broke silence. My ey

d terribly betrayed. His hand, usually so steady and careful, trembled perceptibly; and the paper-knife tore through the leaves faster and faster-cutting them awry, rending them one

member that every minute of delay adds to the suffering and suspense which I am enduring on your account." He opened the b

quoted to me again!-I cou

ave not imitated his vices; I have acted as he would not have acted. And yet, the result of my error will

ooked me full in the face. His eyes lightened up ster

"what do you mean by associating such a word as disgra

" I continued. "You asked me last night who the

ou, besides-you called constantly on a woman's name in your delirium

li

e he lives. Who i

in is a li

of it. This money-lending tradesman, your 'friend!' If I had heard that the poorest labourer on my land called you 'friend,' I should have held you honoured by the attachment and gratitude of an honest man. When I hear that name given to you by a tra

nd rising from his chair as he ended,

Mr. Sherwin, Sir-no

pped s

tones. "You spoke of disgrace just now. There is a worse disgrace th

l. He instantly turned round, and locked the

ery strange expressions about her, which it was impossible altogether to comprehend; but you said enough to show that her character was one of the most abandoned;

nged me-" I could say no more. My head dro

d her Margaret, in you

ds that I would fain have spoken next, s

m mutter t

r!-a worse bait tha

searchingly. A frightful palenes

me, answer me at once! What is

is my

s, my face was bent down; I saw nothing at first. When I raised my head, and

s head was drawn back; his white lips moved, but no sound came from them. Over his upturned fa

ful silence, the sounds out of doors penetrated with harrowing distinctness and merriment into the room. The pleasant rustling of the trees mingled musically with the softened, monotonous rolling of carriage

ng against the bookcase once more. When he withdrew the handkerchief and looked at me again, I knew that the sharp pang of agony had passed away, that the last hard struggl

m unlock the door of the bookcase against which he had been leaning, and place his hand on one of the books inside. Wit

tle away from the bookcase-still keeping his hand on the book inside-and repeated the question. His eyes, when they met mine, had a pining, weary look, as if they had been long condemned to rest on woeful and revolting objects; his expression had los

ything more

f my disgrace, I now disclosed the miserable story of my marriage, and of all that followed it. I remember nothing of the words I used--nothing of what I urged in my own defence. The sense of bewilderment and oppression grew heavier and heavier

, bitterly, "you have humiliated me

behind him, and advanced with it to the table-paused for a moment, pale

perseverance. The births and deaths, the marriages and possessions, the battle achievements and private feuds of the old Norman barons from whom he traced his descent, were all enrolled in regular order on every leaf-headed, sometimes merely by representations of the Knight's favourite weapon; sometimes by copies of the Baron's effigy on his tombstone in a foreign land. As the history advan

and College at which I had been taught, and of the profession that I had adopted. Below, a large blank space was left for the entry of future particulars. On this page my father now looked, still not uttering a word, still with the same ghastly calmness on his face. The organ-notes sounded no more; but the trees rustled as pleasantly, and the roar of the distant carriages swelled as joyous

o me. His voice, at other times clear and gentle in its tones, was now so hard and harsh

redetermined to forgive. But I did not come prepared to hear, that unutterable disgrace had been cast on me and mine, by my own child. I have no words of rebuke or of condemnation for this: the

he proceeded, his voice falte

if I still acknowledge you to be my son; if I think your presence and the presence of my daughter possible in the same house, must be written such a record of dishonour and degradation as has never yet defiled a single page of this book-here, the foul stain of your marriage, and its consequences, must be admitted to spread over all that is pure before it, and to taint to the last whatever

me into her room to listen to, in the bygone time. The shrill, lively peal mingled awfully with the sharp, tearing sound, as my fathe

rew louder and louder with every word he uttered. It seemed as if he still distrusted his resolution to abandon me; and

paper before me,) "write your terms there-I shall find means to keep you to a written engagement-the terms of your absence, for life, from this country; and of hers: the terms of your silence, and of the silence of your accomplices; of all of them

of his pride stirred in my heart against the bitterness of his contempt. I raised my head, and met his eye

you pretend that you h

. If you see in my conduct towards you no mitigation of my offence; if you cannot view the shame and wrong inflicted on me, with such grief as may

you have just spoken it? I tell you again, I insist on your written engagement as I wo

. But I have not fallen so low yet, as to be bribed to perform a duty. You may

n, I insist on your written engagement, though it were only to show that I

vid; his fingers trembled convulsively, and crumpled the sheet of

e?" he sai

ready told

omise you have made: there is no baseness which I do not believe you will yet be guilty of. But I tell you, and the wretches with whom you are leagued, to take warning: I have wealth, po

hing and speaking-was audible in the direction of the library. He started, and looked round. Impelled, I know not ho

-then opened wide. Slowly and nois

first appearance in the room seem almost supernatural; it was as if an apparition had been walking towards us, and not Clara herself! As she approached my father, he pronounced her name in astonishment; but his voice sank to a w

again, still in the

ail fingers was almost painful to me. Her lips moved, but her quick

next words, "Clara," he resumed, sadly and gently, "let go his hand; this is not a time for your presence, I beg yo

ered. "God grant that my mother

e stopped instantly, and turned his face away from us. Who sha

his voice faltered and failed him. "Can you still hold his hand after what I have said? I tell you again

and obedience prevailed; she dropped my ha

e, to be in that room, and wrong to come in here. I wil

ling fingers together

" she said quickly

time in your life, that you are

ner, "till you have said you will let him a

nt nor forgiveness. Clara! are you so cha

y from us as

your knees. Father, I promised him he should be forgiven, if I asked you. Not a word; not a word from either? Basil! you are not going yet-not going at all! Remember, Sir, how good and kind he has always been to me. My poor mother, (I must speak of her), my poor mother's favourite son-you have told me so yourself! and he

again. Overwhelmed by the violence of her agitation,

on mine, flinging her arms round my neck, and trying to lead me with her from the door. "C

tantly from

ced a few steps towards me. "Go!" he cried; "if you ar

er arms from my neck-they were hanging round it weakly, already! As I passe

n its heavenly calmness as if the world and the world's looks knew it no more, and t

the bell, and his eyes were fixed in anguish and in love unutterable on the peaceful face, hushed in its sad repo

again-I have never