ies, and museums, or that it is one of the principal
head-quarters of all the hope of England, our youth, it is not too
much to affirm that there is scarcely a spot on the face of the globe
of equal interest and importance.'

'It is not for its colleges, or libraries, or museums, or all its
splendid buildings,' observed Venetia, 'that I should wish to see it.
I wish to see it because my father was once there. I should like to
see a place where I was quite certain my father had been.'

'Still harping of her father,' thought the Doctor to himself, and
growing uneasy; yet, from his very anxiety to turn the subject, quite
incapable of saying an appropriate word.

'Do you remember my father at Oxford, Doctor Masham?' said Venetia.

'Yes! no, yes!' said the Doctor, rather colouring; 'that he must have
been there in my time, I rather think.'

'But you do not recollect him?' said Venetia, pressing question.

'Why,' rejoined the Doctor, a little more collected, 'when you
remember that there are between two and three thousand young men at
the university, you must not consider it very surprising that I might
not recollect your father.'

'No,' said Venetia, 'perhaps not: and yet I cannot help thinking that
he must always have been a person who, if once seen, would not easily
have been forgotten.'

'Here is an Erica vagans,' said the Doctor, picking a flower; 'it
is rather uncommon about here;' and handing it at the same time to
Venetia.

'My father must have been very young when he died?' said Venetia,
scarcely looking at the flower.

'Yes, your father was very young,' he replied.

'Where did he die?'

'I cannot answer that question.'

'Where was he buried?'

'You know, my dear young lady, that the subject is too tender for any
one to converse with your poor mother upon it. It is not in my power
to give you the information you desire. Be satisfied, my dear Miss
Herbert, that a gracious Providence has spared to you one parent, and
one so inestimable.'

'I trust I know how to appreciate so great a blessing,' replied
Venetia; 'but I should be sorry if the natural interest which all
children must take in those who have given them birth, should be
looked upon as idle and unjustifiable curiosity.'

'My dear young lady, you misapprehend me.'

'No, Doctor Masham, indeed I do not,' replied Venetia, with firmness.
'I can easily conceive that the mention of my father may for various
reasons be insupportable to my mother