she would
not enter thy walls again if other blood but mine swayed thy fair
demesne: and I, shall I give thee another mistress, Armine? It would
indeed be treason! Without her I cannot live. Without her form bounds
over this turf and glances in these arbours I never wish to view them.
All the inducements to make the wretched sacrifice once meditated then
vanish; for Armine, without her, is a desert, a tomb, a hell. I am free,
then. Excellent logician! But this woman: I am bound to her. Bound? The
word makes me tremble. I shiver: I hear the clank of my fetters. Am I
indeed bound? Ay! in honour. Honour and love! A contest! Pah! The Idol
must yield to the Divinity!'

With these wild words and wilder thoughts bursting from his lips and
dashing through his mind; his course as irregular and as reckless as
his fancies; now fiercely galloping, now pulling up into a sudden halt,
Ferdinand at length arrived home; and his quick eye perceived in a
moment that the dreaded arrival had not taken place. Glastonbury was in
the flower-garden on one knee before a vase, over which he was training
a creeper. He looked up as he heard the approach of Ferdinand. His
presence and benignant smile in some degree stilled the fierce emotions
of his pupil. Ferdinand felt that the system of dissimulation must now
commence; besides, he was always careful to be most kind to Glastonbury.
He would not allow that any attack of spleen, or even illness, could
ever justify a careless look or expression to that dear friend.

'I hope, my dear father,' said Ferdinand, 'I am punctual to our hour?'

'The sun-dial tells me,' said Glastonbury, 'that you have arrived to
the moment; and I rather think that yonder approaches a summons to our
repast. I hope you have passed your morning agreeably?'

'If all days would pass as sweet, my father, I should indeed be
blessed.'

'I, too, have had a fine morning of it. You must come to-morrow and see
my grand emblazonry of the Ratcliffe and Armine coats; I mean it for the
gallery.' With these words they entered the Place.

'You do not eat, my child,' said Glastonbury to his companion.

'I have taken too long a ride, perhaps,' said Ferdinand: who indeed was
much too excited to have an appetite, and so abstracted that anyone but
Glastonbury would have long before detected his absence.

'I have changed my hour to-day,' continued Glastonbury, 'for the
pleasure of dining with you, and I think to-morrow you had better chang