ur child; but wife only in name to you! I am not
so lost as to despise myself. I know now, though I knew it not at first,
that I have been guilty; nothing can excuse that guilt but fidelity to
_him_! Oh, yes! I never, never can be unfaithful to my babe's father!
As for all else, dispose of me as you will." And Alice, who from very
innocence had uttered all this without a blush, now clasped her hands
passionately, and left Templeton speechless with mortification and
surprise.

When he recovered himself, he affected not to understand her; but Alice
was not satisfied, and all further conversation ceased. He began slowly,
and at last, and after repeated conferences and urgings, to comprehend
how strange and stubborn in some points was the humble creature whom his
proposals so highly honoured. Though his daughter was indeed his first
object in life; though for her he was willing to make a _mesalliance_,
the extent of which it would be incumbent on him studiously to
conceal,--yet still, the beauty of Alice awoke an earthlier sentiment
that he was not disposed to conquer. He was quite willing to make
promises, and talk generously; but when it came to an oath,--a solemn, a
binding oath--and this Alice rigidly exacted,--he was startled, and
drew back. Though hypocritical, he was, as we have before said, a
most sincere believer. He might creep through a promise with unbruised
conscience; but he was not one who could have dared to violate an oath,
and lay the load of perjury on his soul. Perhaps, after all, the union
never would have taken place, but Templeton fell ill; that soft and
relaxing air did not agree with him; a low but dangerous fever seized
him, and the worldly man trembled at the aspect of Death. It was in this
illness that Alice nursed him with a daughter's vigilance and care;
and when at length he recovered, impressed with her zeal and kindness,
softened by illness, afraid of the approach of solitary age,--and
feeling more than ever his duties to his motherless child, he threw
himself at Alice's feet, and solemnly vowed all that she required.

It was during this residence in Devonshire, and especially during his
illness, that Templeton made and cultivated the acquaintance of Mr.
Aubrey. The good clergyman prayed with him by his sick-bed; and
when Templeton's danger was at its height, he sought to relieve his
conscience by a confession of his wrongs to Mary Westbrook. The name
startled Aubrey; and when he learned th