ached her of the man she looked upon as her
seducer. It must be confessed, however, that he took great care of his
child--he appointed agents to watch over your welfare, though I firmly
believe that he never saw you in his life."

"I think that he once made the attempt when I was at Roots' school; but,
before I was brought to him, his conscience smote him, and he fled like
a craven from his only and injured son."

"Most probably. Rumour said that he had made several visits to England
under a strict incognito. But I must pause--the evening is fast
waning--let me repose a little, and then we will have lights and
dinner." She fell back upon her couch, and appeared again to slumber.

CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT.

RALPH THINKS SERIOUSLY ABOUT CHANGING HIS NAME--GETS A LITTLE UNWILLING
JUSTICE DONE TO HIMSELF, AND GAINS MUCH INFORMATION--THE WHOLE WOUND UP
SUDDENLY AND SORROWFULLY.

It was nearly dark. As I sat for more than half an hour by the side of
the impenitent beauty, I could not conceive that she was in any danger.
Whilst she discoursed with me so fully, her voice was firm, though not
loud, and, were it not for a short and sudden check, sometimes in the
middle of a word, I should say that I never before heard her converse
more fluently or more musically.

Whilst she yet reclined, the servants brought in lights, and made
preparations for our little dinner, a small table being laid close to
Mrs Causand's couch. When this exquisite repast was ready, and Miss
Tremayne made her appearance, Mrs Causand rose, apparently much
renovated. She looked almost happy: without assistance, she walked from
her sofa, and took her place at the table.

"There, Fanny," said she, quite triumphantly--"and not a single attack!
This dear Ralph has surely brought health with him. Yesterday, this
exertion would have killed me."

"Do not, however," said the lady, "try yourself too much."

We dined cheerfully: she seemed to have forgotten her son, and I my
much-injured mother. After the dinner was concluded, and Miss Tremayne
had retired, and my hostess had returned to her sofa, she sent for her
writing-desk, and then proceeded with her narrative.

"Your mother, my dear Ralph, yearned for your society. She had saved a
considerable sum of money--she wished for a home, to procure which, she
married that little ugly, learned Frenchman, Cherfeuil--but even that
she did not do until it was currently reported, and generally believed,
t