Elmwood was sufficiently sensible of his words and their import, to
make a sign as if she wished to embrace him: but finding her life
leaving her fast, she reserved this last token of love for her
daughter--with a struggle she lifted herself from her pillow, clung to
her child--and died in her arms.

CHAPTER III.

Lord Elmwood was by nature, and more from education, of a serious,
thinking, and philosophic turn of mind. His religious studies had
completely taught him to consider this world but as a passage to
another; to enjoy with gratitude what Heaven in its bounty should
bestow, and to bear with submission, whatever in its vengeance it might
inflict. In a greater degree than most people he practised this
doctrine; and as soon as the shock he received from Lady Elmwood's
conduct was abated, an entire calmness and resignation ensued; but still
of that sensible and feeling kind, that could never suffer him to forget
the happiness he had lost; and it was this sensibility, which urged him
to fly from its more keen recollection as much as possible--this, he
alleged as the reason why he would never permit Lady Elmwood, or even
her child, to be named in his hearing. But this injunction (which all
his friends, and even the servants in the house who attended his person,
had received) was, by many people, suspected rather to proceed from his
resentment, than his tenderness; nor did he deny, that resentment
co-operated with his prudence: for prudence he called it, not to remind
himself of happiness he could never taste again, and of ingratitude that
might impel him to hatred: and prudence he called it, not to form
another attachment near to his heart, more especially so near as a
parent's which might again expose him to all the torments of
ingratitude, from an object whom he affectionately loved.

Upon these principles he formed the unshaken resolution, never to
acknowledge Lady Matilda as his child--or acknowledging her as such--never
to see, to hear of, or take one concern whatever in her fate and
fortune. The death of her mother appeared a favourable time, had he been
so inclined, to have recalled this declaration which he had solemnly and
repeatedly made--she was now destitute of the protection of her other
parent, and it became his duty, at least, to provide her a guardian, if
he did not chuse to take that tender title upon himself--but to mention
either the mother or child to Lord Elmwood, was an equal offence, a