called to bid him
farewell, as he intended, he said, leaving London that afternoon for his
father's seat, where he should remain perhaps a week, and then quit
England for the Continent. He spoke calmly, but there was a paleness of
the cheek, a dimness of the eye, that told a tale of inward
wretchedness, which the regard of Mr. Hamilton could not fail instantly
to discover. Deeply had he become interested in the young man, and the
quick instinct combined with the fears of a father, told him that the
conduct of Caroline had caused this change. He looked at the expressive
countenance of the young Earl for a few minutes, then placing his hand
on his shoulder, said kindly, but impressively--

"St. Eval, you are changed, as well as your plans. You are unhappy. What
has happened? Have your too sensitive feelings caused you to fancy
Caroline unkind?"

"Would to heaven it were only fancy!" replied St. Eval, with unwonted
emotion, and almost convulsively clenching both hands as if for
calmness, added more composedly, "I have been too presumptuous in my
hopes; I fancied myself beloved by your beautiful daughter, but I have
found myself painfully mistaken."

Sternness gathered on the brow of the father as he heard, and he
answered, with painful emphasis--

"St. Eval, deceive me not, I charge you. In what position do you now
stand with Caroline?"

"Briefly, then, if I must speak, in the humble character of a rejected,
scornfully rejected lover." His feelings carried him beyond control. The
triumph he had seen glittering so brightly in the eyes of Caroline had
for the time turned every emotion into gall. He shrunk from the agony it
was to find he was deceived in one whom he had believed so perfect.

"Scorn! has a daughter of mine acted thus? Encourage, and then scorn.
St. Eval, for pity's sake, tell me! you are jesting; it is not of
Caroline you speak." So spoke the now agonized father, for every hope of
his child's singleness of mind and purity of intention appeared at once
blighted. He grasped St. Eval's hand, and looked on him with eyes from
which, in the deep disappointment of his heart, all sternness had fled.

"I grieve to cause you pain, my dear friend," replied the young Earl,
entering at once into the father's feelings, "but it is even so. Your
daughter has only acted as many, nay, as the majority of her sex are
fond of doing. It appears that you, too, have marked what might be
termed the encouragement she gave me.