nother on the estate,
seven miles off.--I have lived to see some changes in the family,
and may live, perhaps, to see more.

_Enter FRANK ROCHDALE._

_Frank._ You expected, I believe, Sir Simon Rochdale, sir;--but he
will be occupied with particular business, for some time. Can I
receive your commands, sir?

_Pereg._ Are you Sir Simon Rochdale's son, sir?

_Frank._ I am.

_Pereg._ It was my wish, sir, to have seen your father. I come
unintroduced, and scurvily enough accoutred; but, as I have urgent
matters to communicate, and have suffered shipwreck, upon your
coast, this morning, business will excuse my obtrusion, and the sea
must apologize for my wardrobe.

_Frank._ Shipwreck! That calamity is a sufficient introduction to
every roof, I trust, in a civilized country. What can we do
immediately to serve you?

_Pereg._ Nothing, sir--I am here to perform service, not to require
it. I come from a wretched hut on the heath, within the ken of this
affluent mansion, where I have witnessed calamity in the extreme.

_Frank._ I do not understand you.

_Pereg._ Mary!--

_Frank._ Ha.!--Now you _have_ made me understand you. I perceive,
now, on what object you have presented yourself here, to harangue.
'Tis a subject on which my own remorse would have taught me to bend
to a just man's castigation; but the reproof retorts on the
reprover, when he is known to be a hypocrite. My friend, sir, has
taught me to know you.

_Pereg._ He, whom I encountered at the house on the heath?

_Frank._ The same.

_Pereg._ And what may he have taught you?

_Frank._ To discover, that your aim is to torture me, for
relinquishing a beloved object, whom you are, at this moment,
attaching to yourself;--to know, that a diabolical disposition, for
which I cannot account, prompts you to come here, without the
probability of benefiting any party, to injure me, and throw a
whole family into confusion, on the eve of a marriage. But, in
tearing myself from the poor, wronged, Mary, I almost tear my very
heart by its fibres from the seat;----but 'tis a sacrifice to a
father's repose; and--

_Pereg._ Hold, sir! When you betrayed the poor, wronged, Mary, how
came you to forget, that every father's repose may be broken for
ever by his child's conduct?

_Frank._ By my honour! by my soul! it was my intention to have
placed her far, far above the reach of want; but you, my hollow
monitor, are frustrating that intention. You, who come here to