, in his cold,
calm way, plant his foot upon their hearts and crush her fond desire out
of existence?

As Lady Hope pondered over these thoughts in silence and semi-darkness,
Clara came through the window, in great excitement.

"Oh! mamma Rachael! He is going away from us. He told me so just now;
but you will not let him. You will never let him!"

Lady Hope started out of her reverie.

"Going away? Where? Who? I cannot understand, Clara!"

"Hepworth--Mr. Closs, I mean. Oh, mamma! he threatens to leave us here
all alone by ourselves--the most cruel thing that ever was heard of. I
thought how angry you would be, and came at once. You can do anything
with him--he loves you so dearly. Let him threaten if he likes, but you
will not let him go. You will tell him how foolish, how cruel it is to
leave us, while papa is away. Oh! mamma Rachael, you can do anything! Do
this! Do this!"

"But why, darling--why do you care so much?"

"Why! why!" Clara threw back her head till the curls waved away from her
shoulders, then a burning crimson came over her, the shamed face drooped
again, and she answered: "I don't know--I don't know."

Rachael bent her face till it almost touched that hot cheek, and
whispered:

"Is it that you love him, my own Clara?"

Again Clara lifted her face. A strange light came upon it. Her lips were
parted, her blue eyes opened wide.

"Love him--love him? Oh! mamma Rachael, is this love?"

Rachael smiled, and kissed that earnest face, holding it between both
hands.

"I think it is, darling. Nay, I am sure that you love him, and that he
loves you."

"Loves me? Then why does he go away? I should think so but for that."

"Because of that, I am afraid, Clara."

"Loves me, and goes away because he loves me!" said the girl,
bewildered. "I don't understand it."

"There may be many reasons, Clara."

"I can't think of one. Indeed I can't. Papa never was cruel."

"He may not think it quite honorable to let--make you love him, when
your father knows nothing about it."

"But papa would not mind."

"Hepworth does not know that; nor do I. Your father is a very proud man,
Clara, and has a right to look high, for his only child."

"What then? Mr. Closs is handsomer, brighter, more--more everything that
is grand and royal, than any nobleman I have ever seen. What can papa
say against that?"

"But he is a man of no family position--simply Hepworth Closs, nothing
more. We can scarcely call him an Eng