nce, and he took her hands
and pressed them to his eyes which were wet with tears. "I must do it;"
he cried, "I have long felt that I have lost his love. Perhaps when I
am gone, he may feel that I have never ceased to be his son."

She raised him up, and said; "Do not weep, or I shall never have
strength to tell you what I have to say. Your mother would say the same
if your father did not prevent her. And even he,--I heard by his voice
how difficult he found it to be so hard; yet hard he will remain--for I
know him well--he believes that he is serving the Lord by being severe,
and serving him best, in sacrificing his own heart."

"And you think the same?"

"No, I don't, Clement.--I don't know much about the world, nor the laws
of that opinion that forces a man to fight a duel; but I do know you
enough to know that every one of your thoughts and actions--and
therefore this duel also--is submitted to the severest test of
self-examination. You may owe it to the world, and to her you love;
only I think you owe your parents more than either. I do not know the
person who has been insulted, and do not quite feel why it should make
you so indignant, to be prevented doing this for her. Do not interrupt
me. Do not suppose me to be influenced by the fear of losing any
remnant of our friendship which you may have retained during the years
that have parted us. I would be willing to let her have you all to
herself, if she be able to make you happy, but not even for her sake
should you do what you are about to do, were she dearer to you than
either father or mother. From their house you must not go in anger, at
the risk of its being closed to you for ever. Your father is old, and
will carry his opinions with him to the grave. If he were to give way
to you, it would be at the sacrifice of principles which are the very
pith and marrow of his life; and the sacrifice on your side, would be
merely, the evanescent estimation in which you believe yourself to be
held by strangers. If a woman whom you love, could break with you
because you are unwilling to embitter the last years of your father's
life, that woman, I say, was never worthy of you."

Her voice failed her; he threw himself on a chair and groaned.

She was still standing by the door, waiting to hear what he would say;
and there was a strange look of tension about her brow--she seemed to
be listening with her eyes. Suddenly he sprang to his feet, laid his
two hands on her shoul