, received them again, and they
were gone before Eugenia was sensible of their presence.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

Fare thee well; and if for ever,
Still for ever fare thee well:
E'en though unforgiving, never
'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.
BYRON.

I was so stunned with this _contretemps_, that I fell senseless to the
ground; and it was long before the kind attentions and assiduity of
Eugenia could restore me. When she had succeeded, my first act was one
of base ingratitude, cruelty, and injustice: I spurned her from me, and
upbraided her as the cause of my unfortunate situation. She only
replied with tears. I quitted her and the child without bidding them
adieu, little thinking I should never see them again. I ran to the inn,
where I had left my horse, mounted, and rode back to --- Hall.

Mr Somerville and his daughter had just arrived, and Emily was lifted
off her horse, and obliged to be carried up to her room.

Clara and Talbot came to inquire what had happened. I could give no
account of it; but earnestly requested to see Emily. The answer
returned was, that Miss Somerville declined seeing me. In the course of
this day, which, in point of mental suffering, exceeded all I have ever
endured in the utmost severity of professional hardship, an explanation
had taken place between myself, my father, and Mr Somerville. I had
done that by the impulse of dire necessity, which I ought to have done
at first of my own free will. I was caught at last in my own snare.
"The trains of the devil are long," said I to myself, "but they are sure
to blow up at last."

The consequence of the explanation was my final dismissal, and a return
of all the presents which my father and myself had given to Emily. My
conduct, though blameable, was not viewed in that heinous light, either
by my father or Mr Somerville; and both of them did all that could be
done to restore harmony. Clara and Talbot interposed their kind
offices, but with no better success. The maiden pride of the inexorable
Emily had been alarmed by a beautiful rival, with a young family, in the
next village. The impression had taken hold of her spotless mind, and
could not be removed. I was false, fickle, and deceitful, and was given
to understand that Miss Somerville did not intend to quit her room until
she was assured by her father that I was no longer a guest in the house.

Under these painful circumstances, our remaining any longer at