," he answered, smiling, "not only from the
power of your will, my dear, but also because I have nothing to say. At
first I was strongly inclined to believe (knowing, from my certainty of
your father, that the universal opinion must be wrong) that the old lord
had done it himself; for he always had been of a headstrong and violent
nature, which I am sure will never re-appear in you. But the whole
of the evidence went against this, and little as I think of evidence,
especially at an inquest, your father's behavior confirmed what was
sworn to. Your father knew that his father had not made away with
himself in a moment of passion, otherwise he was not the man to break
prison and fly trial. He would have said, boldly, 'I am guiltless; there
are many things that I can not explain; I can not help that; I will
face it out. Condemn me, if you like, and I will suffer.' From your own
remembrance of your father's nature, is not that certainly the course he
would have taken?"

"I have not an atom of doubt about it. His flight and persistent dread
of trial puzzle me beyond imagination. Of his life he was perfectly
reckless, except, at least, for my sake."

"I know that he was," Mr. Shovelin replied; "as a boy he was wonderfully
fearless. As a man, with a sweet wife and a lot of children, he might
have begun to be otherwise. But when all those were gone, and only a
poor little baby left--"

"Yes, I suppose I was all that."

"Forgive me. I am looking back at you. Who could dream that you would
ever even live, without kith or kin to care for you? Your life was saved
by some good woman who took you away to Wales. But when you were such a
poor little relic, and your father could scarcely have seen you, to
have such a mite left must have been almost a mockery of happiness. That
motive could not have been strong enough to prevent a man of proud honor
from doing what honor at once demanded. Your father would have returned
and surrendered as soon as he heard of his dear wife's death, if in the
balance there had been only you."

"Yes, Mr. Shovelin, perhaps he would. I was never very much as a
counter-balance. Yet my father loved me." I could have told him of the
pledge exchanged--"For my sake," and, "Yes, for your sake," with love
and wedded honor set to fight cold desolate repute--but I did not say a
word about it.

"He loved you afterward, of course. But a man who has had seven children
is not enthusiastic about a baby. There must ha