once been asked for it, no peace would be allowed
to her till he had seen it. And, alas! there was not much probability
of peace in the house for some time after he should see it.

The archdeacon read the three or four first lines in silence,--and
then he burst out. "He has, has he? Then, by heavens--"

"Stop, dearest; stop," said his wife, rising from her chair and
coming over to him; "do not say words which you will surely repent."

"I will say words which shall make him repent. He shall never have
from me a son's portion."

"Do not make threats in anger. Do not! You know that it is wrong. If
he has offended you, say nothing about it,--even to yourself,--as to
threatened punishments, till you can judge of the offence in cool
blood."

"I am cool," said the archdeacon.

"No, my dear; no; you are angry. And you have not even read his
letter through."

"I will read his letter."

"You will see that the marriage is not imminent. It may be that even
yet it will never take place. The young lady has refused him."

"Psha!"

"You will see that she has done so. He tells us so himself. And she
has behaved very properly."

"Why has she refused him?"

"There can be no doubt about the reason. She feels that, with this
charge hanging over her father, she is not in a position to become
the wife of any gentleman. You cannot but respect her for that."

Then the archdeacon finished his son's letter, uttering sundry
interjections and ejaculations as he did so.

"Of course; I knew it. I understood it all," he said at last. "I've
nothing to do with the girl. I don't care whether she be good or
bad."

"Oh, my dear!"

"I care not at all,--with reference to my own concerns. Of course
I would wish that the daughter of a neighbouring clergyman,--that
the daughter of any neighbour,--that the daughter of any one
whatsoever,--should be good rather than bad. But as regards Henry and
me, and our mutual relation, her goodness can make no difference. Let
her be another Grizel, and still such a marriage must estrange him
from me, and me from him."

"But she has refused him."

"Yes; and what does he say?--that he has told her that he will not
accept her refusal. Of course we know what it all means. The girl
I am not judging. The girl I will not judge. But my own son, to
whom I have ever done a father's duty with a father's affectionate
indulgence,--him I will judge. I have warned him, and he declares
himself to be careless of my