,
united by early circumstance, congenial, it seems, in simple habits and
refined tastes,--what should hinder their union, unless it be the want
of fortune? And all men know your wealth, none ever questioned your
generosity. My Lord, my Lord, your look freezes me. If I have offended,
do not visit my offence on him,--on Leonard!"

"And so," said Harley, still controlling his rage, "so this boy--whom,
as you say, I saved from that pitiless world which has engulfed many
a nobler genius--so, in return for all, he has sought to rob me of the
last affection, poor and lukewarm though it was, that remained to me
in life? He presume to lift his eyes to my affianced bride! He! And for
aught I know, steal from me her living heart, and leave to me her icy
hand!"

"Oh, my Lord, your affianced bride! I never dreamed of this. I implore
your pardon. The very thought is so terrible, so unnatural! the son to
woo the father's! Oh, what sin have I fallen into! The sin was mine,--I
urged and persuaded him to it. He was ignorant as myself. Forgive him,
forgive him!"

"Mr. Dale," said Harley, rising, and extending his hand, which the
poor parson felt himself--unworthy to take,--"Mr. Dale, you are a good
man,--if, indeed, this universe of liars contains some man who does not
cheat our judgment when we deem him honest. Allow me only to ask why you
consider Leonard Fairfield to be my son."

"Was not your youthful admiration for poor Nora evident to me? Remember
I was a frequent guest at Lansmere Park; and it was so natural that you,
with all your brilliant gifts, should captivate her refined fancy, her
affectionate heart."

"Natural--you think so,--go on."

"Your mother, as became her, separated you. It was not unknown to me
that you still cherished a passion which your rank forbade to be lawful.
Poor girl! she left the roof of her protectress, Lady Jane. Nothing
was known of her till she came to her father's house to give birth to a
child, and die. And the same day that dawned on her corpse, you hurried
from the place. Ah, no doubt your conscience smote you; you have never
returned to Lansmere since."

Harley's breast heaved, he waved his hand; the parson resumed,

"Whom could I suspect but you? I made inquiries: they confirmed my
suspicions."

"Perhaps you inquired of my friend, Mr. Egerton? He was with me
when--when--as you say, I hurried from the place."

"I did, my Lord."

"And he?"

"Denied your guilt; but still, a man of