hope,--I
have broken thy child's heart'?"

"Forgive me, but I should confess to you, that, from all I can learn
from Mrs. Leslie, Lady Vargrave has but one prayer, one hope in
life,--that she may never again meet with her betrayer. You may, indeed,
in her own letter perceive how much she is terrified by the thought of
your discovering her. She has, at length, recovered peace of mind and
tranquillity of conscience. She shrinks with dread from the prospect
of ever again encountering one once so dear, now associated in her
mind with recollections of guilt and sorrow. More than this, she is
sensitively alive to the fear of shame, to the dread of detection.
If ever her daughter were to know her sin, it would be to her as a
death-blow. Yet in her nervous state of health, her ever-quick and
uncontrollable feelings, if you were to meet her, she would disguise
nothing, conceal nothing. The veil would be torn aside: the menials in
her own house would tell the tale, and curiosity circulate, and scandal
blacken the story of her early errors. No, Maltravers, at least wait
awhile before you see her; wait till her mind can be prepared for such
an interview, till precautions can be taken, till you yourself are in a
calmer state of mind."

Maltravers fixed his piercing eyes on Lumley while he thus spoke, and
listened in deep attention.

"It matters not," said he, after a long pause, "whether these be your
real reasons for wishing to defer or prevent a meeting between Alice and
myself. The affliction that has come upon me bursts with too clear
and scorching a blaze of light for me to see any chance of escape or
mitigation. Even if Evelyn were the daughter of Alice by another, she
would be forever separated from me. The mother and the child! there is
a kind of incest even in that thought! But such an alleviation of my
anguish is forbidden to my reason. No, poor Alice, I will not disturb
the repose thou hast won at last! Thou shalt never have the grief to
know that our error has brought upon thy lover so black a doom! All is
over! the world never shall find me again. Nothing is left for me but
the desert and the grave!"

"Speak not so, Ernest," said Lord Vargrave, soothingly; "a little while,
and you will recover this blow: your control over passion has, even
in youth, inspired me with admiration and surprise; and now, in calmer
years, and with such incentives to self-mastery, your triumph will come
sooner than you think. Evelyn, too,