fford, to have his gifts refused."

"How can we help it?" returned Fern, in a choking voice. "Percy ought
to know that we can not use any of Mr. Huntingdon's money: neither my
mother nor I would ever touch a penny of it. Don't you know,"
struggling with her tears, "that my poor father died broken-hearted,
and he might have saved him?"

"Yes, I know," replied Erle, looking kindly at the weeping girl, "and
I for one can not say you are wrong. My uncle has dealt very harshly
and I fear cruelly by his own flesh and blood--my poor mother often
cried as she told me so; but she always said that it was not for us to
blame him who lived under his roof and profited by his generosity. He
was a benefactor to us in our trouble--for we were poor, too." But
here Erle checked himself abruptly, for he did not care to tell Fern
that his father had been a gambler, and had squandered all his wife's
property; but he remembered almost as vividly as though it were
yesterday, when he was playing in their miserable lodgings at Naples,
after his father's death--how a grave, stern-faced man came into the
room and sat down beside his mother; and one speech had reached his
ears.

"Never mind all that, Beatrice, you are happier as his widow than his
wife. Forget the past, and come home with me, and your boy shall be
mine."

Erle certainly loved his uncle, and it always pained him to remember
his wrong-doing. In his boyish generosity he had once ventured to
intercede for the disinherited daughter, and had even gone so far as
to implore that his uncle would never put him in Percy's place; but
the burst of anger with which his words were received cowed him
effectually.

"A Trafford shall never inherit my property," Mr. Huntingdon had said,
with a frown so black that the boy positively quailed under it; "I
would leave it all to a hospital first--never presume to speak to me
of this again. Percy does not require any pity; when he leaves Oxford
he will read for the Bar. We have arranged all that; he will have a
handsome allowance; and with his capacity--for his tutor tells me he
is a clever fellow--he will soon carve his way to fortune;" and after
this, Erle certainly held his peace.

CHAPTER XIV.

CRYSTAL.

I do remember it. 'Twas such a face
As Guido would have loved to look upon.

CORNWALL.

She was as tender
As infancy and grace.