When, therefore, he heard her true
history he sat awhile dismayed.

"It is a sad story," said the father.

"Yes, sad enough," said Frank, rising from his chair and standing
with it before him, leaning on the back of it. "Poor Mary, poor Mary!
She will have to learn it some day."

"I fear so, Frank;" and then there was again a few moments' silence.

"To me, father, it is told too late. It can now have no effect on me.
Indeed," said he, sighing as he spoke, but still relieving himself by
the very sigh, "it could have had no effect had I learned it ever so
soon."

"I should have told you before," said the father; "certainly I ought
to have done so."

"It would have been no good," said Frank. "Ah, sir, tell me this: who
were Miss Dunstable's parents? What was that fellow Moffat's family?"

This was perhaps cruel of Frank. The squire, however, made no answer
to the question. "I have thought it right to tell you," said he.
"I leave all commentary to yourself. I need not tell you what your
mother will think."

"What did she think of Miss Dunstable's birth?" said he, again more
bitterly than before. "No, sir," he continued, after a further pause.
"All that can make no change; none at any rate now. It can't make my
love less, even if it could have prevented it. Nor, even, could it do
so--which it can't least, not in the least--but could it do so, it
could not break my engagement. I am now engaged to Mary Thorne."

And then he again repeated his question, asking for his father's
advice under the present circumstances. The conversation was a very
long one, as long as to disarrange all Lady Arabella's plans. She
had determined to take her son most stringently to task that very
evening; and with this object had ensconced herself in the small
drawing-room which had formerly been used for a similar purpose by
the august countess herself. Here she now sat, having desired Augusta
and Beatrice, as well as the twins, to beg Frank to go to her as soon
as he should come out of the dining-room. Poor lady! there she waited
till ten o'clock,--tealess. There was not much of the Bluebeard about
the squire; but he had succeeded in making it understood through the
household that he was not to be interrupted by messages from his wife
during the post-prandial hour, which, though no toper, he loved so
well.

As a period of twelve months will now have to be passed over, the
upshot of this long conversation must be told in as few words as