too much of one, who promised to be my
protector always, to think of any other.

_Frank._ Mary----I----I----'twas I, then, it seems who brought your
life into such hazard.

_Mary._ I hope I haven't said any thing to make you unhappy.

_Frank._ Nothing, my dearest Mary, nothing. I know it is not in your
nature even to whisper a reproof. Yet, I sent a friend, with full
power from me, to give you the amplest protection.

_Mary._ I know you did:--and he gave me a letter, that I might be
protected, when I got to London.

_Frank._ Why, then, commit yourself to the care of a stranger?

_Mary._ Because the stranger read the direction of the letter--here
it is, [_Taking it from her Pocket._] and said your friend was
treacherous.

_Frank._ [_Looking at the Letter._] Villain!

_Mary._ Did he intend to lead me into a snare then?

_Frank._ Let me keep this letter.--I may have been deceived in the
person I sent to you, but--damn his rascality! [_Aside._] But, could
you think me base enough to leave you, unsheltered? I had torn you
from your home,--with anguish I confess it--but I would have
provided you another home, which want should not have assailed.
Would this stranger bring you better comfort?

_Mary._ Oh, yes; he has; he has brought me my father.

_Frank._ Your father!--from whom I made you fly!

_Mary._ Yes; he has brought a father to his child,--that she might
kiss off the tears her disobedience had forced down his aged cheeks,
and restored me to the only home, which could give me any comfort,
now.--And my father is here.

_Frank._ Here!

_Mary._ Indeed, I cou'dn't help his coming; and he made me come with
him.

_Frank._ I--I am almost glad, Mary, that it has happened.

_Mary._ Are you?

_Frank._ Yes--when a weight of concealment is on the mind, remorse
is relieved by the very discovery which it has dreaded. But you must
not be waiting here, Mary. There is one in the house, to whose care
I will entrust you.

_Mary._ I hope it isn't the person you sent to me to-day.

_Frank._ He! I would sooner cradle infancy with serpents.--Yet this
is my friend! I will, now, confide in a stranger:--the stranger,
Mary, who saved your life.

_Mary._ Is he here!

_Frank._ He is:--Oh, Mary, how painful, if, performing the duty of a
son, I must abandon, at last, the expiation of a penitent! but so
dependent on each other are the delicate combinations of probity,
that one broken link perplexes the whole chain, and an a