Austin,--nay, with himself! And he, at least, had no right to
reproach me," continued Lady Ellinor warmly, and with a curve of
her haughty lip; "for if I felt interest in his wild thirst for some
romantic glory, it was but in the hope that what made the one brother so
restless might at least wake the other to the ambition that would have
become his intellect and aroused his energies. But these are old tales
of follies and delusions now no more: only this will I say, that I have
ever felt, in thinking of your father, and even of your sterner
uncle, as if my conscience reminded me of a debt which I longed to
discharge,--if not to them, to their children. So when we knew you,
believe me that your interests, your career, instantly became to me
an object. But mistaking you, when I saw your ardent industry bent on
serious objects, and accompanied by a mind so fresh and buoyant, and
absorbed as I was in schemes or projects far beyond a woman's ordinary
province of hearth and home, I never dreamed, while you were our
guest,--never dreamed of danger to you or Fanny. I wound you,--pardon
me; but I must vindicate myself. I repeat that if we had a son to
inherit our name, to bear the burden which the world lays upon those
who are born to influence the world's destinies, there is no one to
whom Trevanion and myself would sooner have intrusted the happiness of
a daughter. But my daughter is the sole representative of the mother's
line, of the father's name: it is not her happiness alone that I have to
consult, it is her duty,--duty to her birthright, to the career of the
noblest of England's patriots; duty, I may say, without exaggeration, to
the country for the sake of which that career is run!"

"Say no more, Lady Ellinor, say no more; I understand you. I have no
hope, I never had hope--it was a madness--it is over. It is but as a
friend that I ask again if I may see Miss Trevanion in your presence
before--before I go alone into this long exile, to leave, perhaps, my
dust in a stranger's soil! Ay, look in my face,--you cannot fear my
resolution, my honor, my truth! But once, Lady Ellinor,--but once more.
Do I ask in vain?"

Lady Ellinor was evidently much moved. I bent down almost in the
attitude of kneeling; and brushing away her tears with one hand, she
laid the other on my head tenderly, and said in a very low voice,--

"I entreat you not to ask me; I entreat you not to see my daughter. You
have shown that you are not selfish