tion to consider your feelings:
possibly to a reluctance to do the deed unsanctioned by her father. It
would appear so to a cool observer, notwithstanding her inattention to
your remonstrances.'

The reply was: 'Dine here and sleep here. I shall be having more of
these letters,' Mr. Adister added, profoundly sighing.

Caroline slipped away to mark a conclusion to the debate; and Mr.
Camminy saw his client redden fast and frown.

'Besides,' he spoke in a husky voice, descending upon a subject hateful,
'she tells me to-day she is not in a state to travel! Do you hear? Make
what you can of it.'

The proud and injured gentleman had the aspect of one who receives a
blow that it is impossible for him to resent. He could not speak the
shame he felt: it was literally in his flesh. But the cause had been
sufficiently hinted to set the lawyer staring as men do when they
encounter situations of grisly humour, where certain of the passions
of man's developed nature are seen armed and furious against our mild
prevailing ancient mother nature; and the contrast is between our utter
wrath and her simple exposition of the circumstances and consequences
forming her laws. There are situations which pass beyond the lightly
stirred perceptive wits to the quiet court of the intellect, to be
received there as an addition to our acquaintance with mankind. We know
not of what substance to name them. Humour in its intense strain has
a seat somewhere about the mouth of tragedy, giving it the enigmatical
faint wry pull at a corner visible at times upon the dreadful mask.

That Mr. Adister should be astonished at such a communication from the
princess, after a year of her marriage: and that he should take it for
a further outrage of his paternal sentiments, should actually redden and
be hoarse in alluding to it: the revelation of such points in our human
character set the humane old lawyer staring at the reserve space within
himself apart from his legal being, whereon he by fits compared his own
constitution with that of the individuals revealed to him by their acts
and confidential utterances. For him, he decided that he would have
rejoiced at the news.

Granting the prince a monster, however, as Mr. Adister unforcedly
considered him, it was not so cheering a piece of intelligence that
involved him yet closer with that man's rank blood: it curdled his own.
The marriage had shocked and stricken him, cleaving, in his love for his
daughter, a