hich you are aware is
generally the only profession embraced in this country by the heirs of
noble families. Of course, I knew little of what had passed at home,
but still I had occasionally heard my mother spoken lightly of, when I
was not supposed to be present, and I always heard my father's name
mentioned with compassion, as if an ill-used man, but I knew nothing
more: still this was quite sufficient for a young man, whose blood
boiled at the idea of anything like a stigma being cast upon his family.
I arrived at my father's--I found him at his books; I paid my respects
to my mother--I found her with her confessor. I disliked the man at
first sight; he was handsome, certainly: his forehead was high and
white, his eyes large and fiery, and his figure commanding; but there
was a dangerous, proud look about him which disgusted me--nothing like
humility or devotion. I might have admired him as an officer commanding
a regiment of cavalry, but as a churchman he appeared to be most
misplaced. She named me with kindness, but he appeared to treat me with
disdain; he spoke authoritatively to my mother, who appeared to yield
implicitly, and I discovered that he was lord of the whole household.
My mother, too, it was said, had given up gaieties and become devout. I
soon perceived more than a common intelligence between them, and before
I had been two months at home I had certain proofs of my father's
dishonour; and what was still more unfortunate for me, they were aware
that such was the case. My first impulse was to acquaint my father;
but, on consideration, I thought it better to say nothing, provided I
could persuade my mother to dismiss Father Ignatio. I took an
opportunity when she was alone to express my indignation at her conduct,
and to demand his immediate dismissal, as a condition of my not
divulging her crime. She appeared frightened, and gave her consent; but
I soon found that her confessor had more power with her than I had, and
he remained. I now resolved to acquaint my father, and I roused him
from his studies that he might listen to his shame. I imagined that he
would have acted calmly and discreetly; but, on the contrary, his
violence was without bounds, and I had the greatest difficulty from
preventing his rushing with his sword to sacrifice them both. At last
he contented himself by turning Father Ignatio out of the house in the
most ignominious manner, and desiring my mother to prepare for seclusion