t, and a mighty show to see, and good for
the soul's comforts, with Bible stories wrought on it. Eh, sir! don't
you call to mind your namesake, Master Adam, in his brave scarlet hosen,
and Madam Eve, in her bonny blue kirtle and laced courtpie? and now--now
look round, I say, and see what you have brought your child to!"

"Hush! hush! Madge, bush!" cried Sibyll, while Adam gazed in evident
perturbation and awakening shame at the intruder, turning his eyes round
the room as she spoke, and heaving from time to time short, deep sighs.

"But I will not hush," pursued the old woman; "I will say my say, for
I love ye both, and I loved my poor mistress who is dead and gone. Ah,
sir, groan! it does you good. And now when this sweet damsel is growing
up, now when you should think of saving a marriage dower for her (for no
marriage where no pot boils), do you rend from her the little that she
has drudged to gain!--She! Oh, out on your heart! And for what,--for
what, sir? For the neighbours to set fire to your father's house, and
the little ones to--"

"Forbear, woman!" cried Adam, in a voice of thunder; "forbear! Heavens!"
And he waved his hand as he spoke, with so unexpected a majesty that
Madge was awed into sudden silence, and, darting a look of compassion at
Sibyll, she hobbled from the room. Adam stood motionless an instant;
but when he felt his child's soft arms round his neck, when he heard
her voice struggling against tears, praying him not to heed the foolish
words of the old servant,--to take--to take all, that it would be easy
to gain more,--the ice of his philosophy melted at once; the man broke
forth, and, clasping Sibyll to his heart, and kissing her cheek, her
lips, her hands, he faltered out, "No! no! forgive me! Forgive thy cruel
father! Much thought has maddened me, I think,--it has indeed! Poor
child, poor Sibyll," and he stroked her cheek gently, and with a
movement of pathetic pity--"poor child, thou art pale, and so slight and
delicate! And this chamber--and thy loneliness--and--ah! my life hath
been a curse to thee, yet I meant to bequeath it a boon to all!

"Father, dear father, speak not thus. You break my heart. Here, here,
take the gold--or rather, for thou must not venture out to insult again,
let me purchase with it what thou needest. Tell me, trust me--"

"No!" exclaimed Adam, with that hollow energy by which a man resolves
to impose restraint on himself; "I will not, for all that science ever
ac