in it is, that in the present instance mine were rendered of none
avail, and, for any good effect that they produced, might as well never
have been formed.

As I got up to leave the room Miss Saville rose likewise, and in doing
so accidentally dropped a, or rather the, letter, which I picked up,
and was about to return to her, when suddenly my eye fell upon the
direction, and I started as I recognised the writing--a second glance
served to convince me that I had not been mistaken, for the hand was a
very peculiar one; and, turning to my astonished companion, I exclaimed,
"Clara, as you would avoid a life of misery, tell me by what right this
man dares to address you!"

[Illustration: page281 The Discovery]

"What! do you know him, then?" she inquired anxiously.

"If he be the man I mean," was my answer, "I know him but too well,
and he is the only human being I both dislike and despise. Was not that
letter written by Richard Cumberland?"

"Yes, that is his hateful name," she replied, shuddering while she
spoke, as at the aspect of some loathsome thing; then, suddenly changing
her tone to one of the most passionate entreaty, she clasped her hands,
and advancing a step towards me, exclaimed:--

"Oh! Mr. Fairlegh, only save me from _him_, and I will bless you,
will pray for you!" and completely overcome by her emotion, she sank
backwards, and would have fallen had not I prevented it.

There is a peculiar state of feeling which a man sometimes experiences
when he has bravely resisted some hydra-headed temptation to do anything
"pleasant but wrong," yet which circumstances appear determined to force
upon him: he struggles against it boldly at first; but, as each
victory serves only to lessen his own strength, while that of the enemy
continues unimpaired, he begins to tell himself that it is useless to
contend longer--that the monster is too strong for him, and he yields at
last, from a mixed feeling of fatalism and irritation--a sort of ~282~~
"have-it-your-own-way-then" frame of mind, which seeks to relieve itself
from all responsibility by throwing the burden on things in general--the
weakness of human nature--the force of circumstances--or any other
indefinite and conventional scapegoat, which may serve his purpose of
self-exculpation.

In much such a condition did I now find myself; I felt that I was
regularly conquered--completely taken by storm--and that nothing was
left for me but to yield to my destiny with