e guilty son.

And I had told but twenty years, and my heart had been mellowed in the
tender sunshine of a happy home, and I had loved this boy as a stranger;
and lo, he was Roland's son! I forgot all else, looking upon that
anguish; and I threw myself on the ground by the form that writhed
there, and folding my arms round the breast which in vain repelled me,
I whispered, "Comfort, comfort: life is long. You shall redeem the past,
you shall efface the stain, and your father shall bless you yet!"

CHAPTER II.

I could not stay long with my unhappy cousin, but still I stayed long
enough to make me think it probable that Lord Castleton's carriage would
have left the inn; and when, as I passed the hall, I saw it standing
before the open door, I was seized with fear for Roland,--his emotions
might have ended in some physical attack. Nor were those fears without
foundation. I found Fanny kneeling beside the old soldier in the parlor
where we had seen the two women, and bathing his temples, while Lord
Castleton was binding his arm; and the marquis's favorite valet, who,
amongst his other gifts, was something of a surgeon, was wiping
the blade of the penknife that had served instead of a lancet. Lord
Castleton nodded to me. "Don't be uneasy,--a little fainting fit; we
have bled him. He is safe now,--see, he is recovering." Roland's eyes,
as they opened, turned to me with an anxious, inquiring look. I smiled
upon him as I kissed his forehead, and could, with a safe conscience,
whisper words which neither father nor Christian could refuse to receive
as comfort.

In a few minutes more we had left the house. As Lord Castleton's
carriage only held two, the marquis, having assisted Miss Trevanion and
Roland to enter, quietly mounted the seat behind and made a sign to me
to come by his side, for there was room for both. (His servant had
taken one of the horses that had brought thither Roland and myself, and
already gone on before.) No conversation took place between us then.
Lord Castleton seemed profoundly affected, and I had no words at my
command.

When we reached the inn at which Lord Castleton had changed horses,
about six miles distant, the marquis insisted on Fanny's taking some
rest for a few hours; for indeed she was thoroughly worn out.

I attended my uncle to his room; but he only answered my assurances of
his son's repentance with a pressure of the hand, and then, gliding from
me, went into the farthest reces