ature. And I, Gabriella,--though out of delicacy to you,--I
have forborne any allusion to the events of the last winter, have
suffered most deeply and acutely on their account. I have suffered for
myself, as well as my son. If there is any thing in this world to be
prized next to a blameless conscience, it is an unspotted name. Well is
it for you, that your own is covered with one, which from generation to
generation has been pure and honorable. Well is it for you, that your
husband's love is stronger than his pride, or he might reproach you for
a father's ignominy. Remember this, when you feel that you have wrongs
to forgive. And as you value your own happiness and ours, never, my
child, seek to discover a brother, whom you would probably blush to
acknowledge, and my son be compelled to disown."

She spoke with dignity and emphasis, while the pride of a virtuous and
honored ancestry, though subdued by Christian grace, darkened her eyes
and glowed on her usually colorless cheek. I realized then all her
forbearance and delicacy. I understood what a deep wound her family
pride must have received, and how bitterly she must have regretted a
union, which exposed her son to contact with degradation and crime.

"I would not have spoken as I have, my daughter," she added, in a
softened tone, "but with your limited knowledge of the world, you cannot
understand the importance attached to unblemished associations. And
never mention the subject to Ernest, if you would not revive memories
that had better slumber for ever."

She immediately resumed her kind and gracious manner, but I never forgot
the lesson she had given. My proud spirit needed no second warning.
Never had I felt so crushed, so humiliated by the remembrance of my
father's crimes. That he _was_ my father I had never dared to doubt.
Even Ernest relinquished the hope he had cherished, as time passed on,
and no letter from Mr. Brahan threw any new light on the dark
relationship; though removed from the vicinity of the dismal Tombs, the
dark, gigantic walls cast their lengthening shadow over the fresh green
fields and blossoming meadows, and dimmed the glory of the landscape.

The shadow of the Tombs met the shadow in my heart, and together they
produced a chill atmosphere. I sighed for that perfect love which
casteth out fear; that free, joyous intercourse of thought and feeling,
born of undoubting confidence.

Could I live over again the first year of my wedded life