fancy one hears the midnight
Fates busily stirring their embryos. The lamp glowed mildly on the bust
of Chatham.

Toward morning a gentle knock fell at his door. Lady Blandish glided in.
With hasty step she came straight to him, and took both his hands.

"My friend," she said, speaking tearfully, and trembling, "I feared I
should find you here. I could not sleep. How is it with you?"

"Well! Emmeline, well!" he replied, torturing his brows to fix the mask.

He wished it had been Adrian who had come to him. He had an extraordinary
longing for Adrian's society. He knew that the wise youth would divine
how to treat him, and he mentally confessed to just enough weakness to
demand a certain kind of management. Besides, Adrian, he had not a doubt,
would accept him entirely as he seemed, and not pester him in any way by
trying to unlock his heart; whereas a woman, he feared, would be waxing
too womanly, and swelling from tears and supplications to a scene, of all
things abhorred by him the most. So he rapped the floor with his foot,
and gave the lady no very welcome face when he said it was well with him.

She sat down by his side, still holding one hand firmly, and softly
detaining the other.

"Oh, my friend! may I believe you? May I speak to you?" She leaned close
to him. "You know my heart. I have no better ambition than to be your
friend. Surely I divide your grief, and may I not claim your confidence?
Who has wept more over your great and dreadful sorrows? I would not have
come to you, but I do believe that sorrow shared relieves the burden, and
it is now that you may feel a woman's aid, and something of what a woman
could be to you...."

"Be assured," he gravely said, "I thank you, Emmeline, for your
intentions."

"No, no! not for my intentions! And do not thank me. Think of him...think
of your dear boy... Our Richard, as we have called him.--Oh! do not think
it a foolish superstition of mine, but I have had a thought this night
that has kept me in torment till I rose to speak to you... Tell me first
you have forgiven him."

"A father bears no malice to his son, Emmeline."

"Your heart has forgiven him?"

My heart has taken what he gave."

"And quite forgiven him?"

"You will hear no complaints of mine."

The lady paused despondingly, and looked at him in a wistful manner,
saying with a sigh, "Yes! I know how noble you are, and different from
others!"

He drew one of his hands from her relaxed hold.