d, was the presence of
a long-backed chair of antique form, most beautifully embroidered, and a
portrait of a female saint over the mantel-piece. As for Gerard himself
he sat with his head leaning on his arm, which rested on the table,
while he listened with great interest to a book which was read to him by
his daughter, at whose feet lay the fiery and faithful bloodhound.

"So you see, my father," said Sybil with animation, and dropping her
book which however her hand did not relinquish, "even then all was not
lost. The stout earl retired beyond the Trent, and years and reigns
elapsed before this part of the island accepted their laws and customs."

"I see," said her father, "and yet I cannot help wishing that Harold--"
Here the hound, hearing his name, suddenly rose and looked at Gerard,
who smiling, patted him and said, "We were not talking of thee, good
sir, but of thy great namesake; but ne'er mind, a live dog they say is
worth a dead king."

"Ah! why have we not such a man now," said Sybil, "to protect the
people! Were I a prince I know no career that I should deem so great."

"But Stephen says no," said Gerard: "he says that these great men have
never made use of us but as tools; and that the people never can have
their rights until they produce competent champions from their own
order."

"But then Stephen does not want to recall the past," said Sybil with a
kind of sigh; "he wishes to create the future."

"The past is a dream," said Gerard.

"And what is the future?" enquired Sybil.

"Alack! I know not; but I often wish the battle of Hastings were to be
fought over again and I was going to have a hand in it."

"Ah! my father," said Sybil with a mournful smile, "there is ever your
fatal specific of physical force. Even Stephen is against physical
force, with all his odd fancies."

"All very true," said Gerard smiling with good nature; "but all the same
when I was coming home a few days ago, and stopped awhile on the bridge
and chanced to see myself in the stream, I could not help fancying that
my Maker had fashioned these limbs rather to hold a lance or draw a bow,
than to supervise a shuttle or a spindle."

"Yet with the shuttle and the spindle we may redeem our race," said
Sybil with animation, "if we could only form the minds that move those
peaceful weapons. Oh! my father, I will believe that moral power is
irresistible, or where are we to look for hope?"

Gerard shook his head with his habitual