t solemn manner, that he
had a secret way, one which he could not explain, but it was a species
of promise for service performed, of winning from Cromwell the desired
pardon and appointment;--that he had avoided asking such a favour until
something particular occurred, something of deep value and
importance;--that he was willing to sacrifice his own prospects to
oblige his friend; and the only favour he asked in return was one that,
though above all price in his estimation, could be easily bestowed by
Sir Robert Cecil--the immediate gift of his daughter's hand. He did not
wish her feelings to be wounded by a public ceremony so shortly after
the loss they had all sustained; nay, he would prefer receiving her from
her father in the ruined but beautiful little chapel that belonged to
the house: all he requested, all he entreated, was that the marriage
should be speedy. Then, with the power of one deeply skilled in
deceitfulness, he wound up the whole by tender allusions to the
weakness, the precariousness of Sir Robert's health, and the despair he
might experience on his death-bed, if he expired with the knowledge that
his beloved, and only child, had no earthly protector.

Sir Robert remembered his promise to his wife, that he would never urge
his daughter's marriage with Burrell; and although he avoided noticing
this as an apology to the knight, yet he firmly stated his dislike to
press Constantia on the subject; and earnestly inquired if there were no
other way by which he could show his gratitude than by interfering in
the matter, at all events, until the year of mourning for Lady Cecil had
expired.

Burrell feigned astonishment at this reply: the hand of Mistress Cecil,
he said, had long been betrothed to him; he confessed that he did not
think Sir Robert would for a moment have hesitated to comply with his
most reasonable request: he urged various motives for hastening the
union, and finally entreated the baronet's permission to address his
daughter herself on the subject. To this Sir Robert offered no
opposition; he was ignorant of the strength of Constantia's feelings
with regard to Burrell. She had been affianced to him in her early
girlhood, when much too young to have an opinion on the matter; and as
the union had never been pressed upon her, she had not been called upon
to state any objections to it. Her poor mother had seen, with the
clearness of a mother's love, that the marriage would never tend to her
chi