ime for it; I had occupation enough for the scant leisure my family
duties'--and he laid stress on the words--'left me in the duties of my
post. He would endeavor to find arguments for the lady and employment
for me.'

"It was in vain for me to remonstrate,--I was too familiar with my
uncle's temper to waste my time and breath so. I would be silent, I
resolved, and pursue my honorable and gallant course without regard to
his scandalous schemes. I wrote to the 'Lady Angelica,'--since Ferdy's
name for her is so well chosen,--telling her all, giving her solemn
assurances of my unchangeable purpose toward her, and scorn of my
uncle's mercenary ambition. She replied very quietly: 'She, also, was
not without pride; she would come and see for herself';--and she came
at once.

"The family arrived in London in the evening. Within two hours I was
sent--after the fashion of an old-time courier, 'Ride! ride!
ride!--for your life! for your life! for your life!'--to Turin with
despatches, and sealed instructions for my own conduct, not to be
opened till I arrived; then I found my orders were, to remain at Turin
until it should be my uncle's pleasure to recall me.

"I had not been in Turin a month when a letter came from------the Lady
Angelica. 'It was her wish that all intercourse between us, by
interview or correspondence, should cease at once and forever. She
assumed this position of her own free will, and she was resolute to
maintain it. She trusted that I would not inquire obtrusively into her
motives,--she had no fear that I would doubt that they were worthy of
her. Her respect for me was unabated,--her faith in me perfect. I had
her blessing and her anxious prayers. I must go on my way in brave
silence and patience, nor ever for one moment be so weak as to fool
myself into a hope that she would change her purpose.'

"What should I do? I had no one to advise with; my mother, whose faith
in her brother's wisdom was sure, was in Madrid, and my father had
been dead some years. At first my heart was full of bitter curses, and
my uncle had not at his heels a heartier hater than I. Then came the
merely romantic thought, that this might be but a test she would put
me to,--that he might be innocent and ignorant of my misfortune. With
the thought I flung my heart into writing, and madly plied her with
one long, passionate letter after another. I got no answers; but by
his spies my uncle was apprised of all I did.

"About this time,