I was hurt. So I am. So I--ha--am determined to be, whatever
is advanced to the contrary. I am hurt that my daughter, seated in
the--hum--lap of fortune, should mope and retire and proclaim herself
unequal to her destiny. I am hurt that she should--ha--systematically
reproduce what the rest of us blot out; and seem--hum--I had almost said
positively anxious--to announce to wealthy and distinguished society
that she was born and bred in--ha hum--a place that I myself decline to
name. But there is no inconsistency--ha--not the least, in my feeling
hurt, and yet complaining principally for your sake, Amy. I do; I say
again, I do. It is for your sake that I wish you, under the auspices of
Mrs General, to form a--hum--a surface. It is for your sake that I wish
you to have a--ha--truly refined mind, and (in the striking words of
Mrs General) to be ignorant of everything that is not perfectly proper,
placid, and pleasant.'

He had been running down by jerks, during his last speech, like a
sort of ill-adjusted alarum. The touch was still upon his arm. He fell
silent; and after looking about the ceiling again for a little while,
looked down at her. Her head drooped, and he could not see her face; but
her touch was tender and quiet, and in the expression of her dejected
figure there was no blame--nothing but love. He began to whimper, just
as he had done that night in the prison when she afterwards sat at
his bedside till morning; exclaimed that he was a poor ruin and a poor
wretch in the midst of his wealth; and clasped her in his arms. 'Hush,
hush, my own dear! Kiss me!' was all she said to him. His tears
were soon dried, much sooner than on the former occasion; and he was
presently afterwards very high with his valet, as a way of righting
himself for having shed any.

With one remarkable exception, to be recorded in its place, this was
the only time, in his life of freedom and fortune, when he spoke to his
daughter Amy of the old days.

But, now, the breakfast hour arrived; and with it Miss Fanny from her
apartment, and Mr Edward from his apartment. Both these young persons of
distinction were something the worse for late hours. As to Miss Fanny,
she had become the victim of an insatiate mania for what she called
'going into society;'and would have gone into it head-foremost fifty
times between sunset and sunrise, if so many opportunities had been at
her disposal. As to Mr Edward, he, too, had a large acquaintance, and
was