ughtful interest in
his pursuits, his hesitations would have vanished. As it was, he dared to
look what he did not permit himself to speak. She was nobly lovely, and
the palpable envy of men around cried fool at his delays. Beggar and
heiress he said in his heart, to vitalize the three-parts fiction of the
point of honour which Cecilia's beauty was fast submerging. When she was
leaving he named a day for calling to see her. Colonel Halkett stood by,
and she answered, 'Come.'

Beauchamp kept the appointment. Cecilia was absent.

He was unaware that her father had taken her to old Mrs. Beauchamp's
death-bed. Her absence, after she had said, 'Come,' appeared a
confirmation of her glacial manner when they met at the house of Mrs.
Wardour-Devereux; and he charged her with waywardness. A wound of the
same kind that we are inflicting is about the severest we can feel.

Beauchamp received intelligence of his venerable great-aunt's death from
Blackburn Tuckham, and after the funeral he was informed that eighty
thousand pounds had been bequeathed to him: a goodly sum of money for a
gentleman recently beggared; yet, as the political enthusiast could not
help reckoning (apart from a fervent sentiment of gratitude toward his
benefactress), scarcely enough to do much more than start and push for
three or more years a commanding daily newspaper, devoted to Radical
interests, and to be entitled THE DAWN.

True, he might now conscientiously approach the heiress, take her hand
with an open countenance, and retain it.

Could he do so quite conscientiously? The point of honour had been
centred in his condition of beggary. Something still was in his way. A
quick spring of his blood for air, motion, excitement, holiday freedom,
sent his thoughts travelling whither they always shot away when his
redoubtable natural temper broke loose.

In the case of any other woman than Cecilia Halkett he would not have
been obstructed by the minor consideration as to whether he was wholly
heart-free to ask her in marriage that instant; for there was no
hindrance, and she was beautiful. She was exceedingly beautiful; and she
was an unequalled heiress. She would be able with her wealth to float his
newspaper, THE DAWN, so desired of Dr. Shrapnel!--the best restorative
that could be applied to him! Every temptation came supplicating him to
take the step which indeed he wished for: one feeling opposed. He really
respected Cecilia: it is not too much to sa