k upon the interview.

Sidney himself was appalled by the sound. He threw himself on a seat,
and, overcome by passions so new to him, by excitement so strange, hid
his face, and sobbed as a child.

Philip walked rapidly to and fro the room for some moments; at length he
paused opposite to Sidney, and said, with the deep calmness of a wronged
and goaded spirit:

"Sidney Beaufort, hear me! When my mother died she confided you to
my care, my love, and my protection. In the last lines that her hand
traced, she bade me think less of myself than of you; to be to you as a
father as well as brother. The hour that I read that letter I fell on
my knees, and vowed that I would fulfil that injunction--that I would
sacrifice my very self, if I could give fortune or happiness to you. And
this not for your sake alone, Sidney; no! but as my mother--our wronged,
our belied, our broken-hearted mother!--O Sidney, Sidney! have you no
tears for her, too?" He passed his hand over his own eyes for a moment,
and resumed: "But as our mother, in that last letter, said to me, 'let
my love pass into your breast for him,' so, Sidney, so, in all that I
could do for you, I fancied that my mother's smile looked down upon
me, and that in serving you it was my mother whom I obeyed. Perhaps,
hereafter, Sidney, when we talk over that period of my earlier life when
I worked for you, when the degradation you speak of (there was no crime
in it!)--was borne cheerfully for your sake, and yours the holiday
though mine the task--perhaps, hereafter, you will do me more justice.
You left me, or were reft from me, and I gave all the little fortune
that my mother had bequeathed us, to get some tidings from you. I
received your letter--that bitter letter--and I cared not then that I
was a beggar, since I was alone. You talk of what I have cost you--you
talk! and you now ask me to--to--Merciful Heaven! let me
understand you--do you love Camilla? Does she love you?
Speak--speak--explain--what, new agony awaits me?"

It was then that Sidney, affected and humbled, amidst all his more
selfish sorrows, by his brother's language and manner, related, as
succinctly as he could, the history of his affection for Camilla, the
circumstances of their engagement, and ended by placing before him the
letter he had received from Mr. Beaufort.

In spite of all his efforts for self-control, Philip's anguish was so
great, so visible, that Sidney, after looking at his working feature