e latter, in consequence of the tutor's
letter, was not altogether unprepared. It was a case put to the father
for the purpose of ascertaining whether, if he, Charles, were offered
an opportunity of appearing in public life, he would recommend him to
accept it. He did not say that such an opening had really presented
itself, but he strongly urged his father's permission to embrace it if
it should.

This communication was immediately laid before Mr. Sinclair, who advised
his friend, ere he took any other step, or hazarded an opinion upon
it, to require from Charles an explicit statement of the motives which
induced him to solicit such a sanction. "Until we know what he means,"
said he, "it is impossible for us to know how to advise him. That he
has some ambitious project in view, is certain. Mr. Harvey's (his tutor)
letter and this both prove it."

"But in the meantime, we must endeavor to put such silly projects out of
his head, my dear friend. I am more troubled about that sweet girl than
about any thing else. I cannot understand his neglect of her."

"Few, indeed, are worthy of that angel," replied her father, sighing;
"I hope he may. If Charles, after what has passed, sports with her
happiness, he will one day have a fearful reckoning of it, unless he
permits his conscience to become altogether seared."

"It cannot, happen," replied the other; "I know my boy, his heart is
noble; no, no, he is incapable of dishonor, much less of perfidy so
black as that would be. In my next letter, however, I shall call upon
him to explain himself upon that subject, as well as the other, and if
he replies by an evasion, I shall instantly command him home."

They then separated, with a feeling of deep but fatherly concern,
one anxious for the honor of his son, and the other trembling for the
happiness of his daughter.

Mr. Sinclair was a man in whose countenance could be read all the
various emotions that either exalted or disturbed his heart. If he felt
joy his eye became irradiated with benignant lustre, that spoke at once
of happiness; and, when depressed by care or sorrow, it was easy to
see by the serious composure of his face, that something troubled or
disturbed him. Indeed, this candor of countenance is peculiar to those
only who have not schooled their faces into hypocrisy. After his return
from the last interview with Mr. Osborne, his family perceived at a
glance that something more than usually painful lay upon his min