n the most trifling circumstances. Oh, to have been your son--" he
paused abruptly, and hurriedly paced the room. "Forgive me," he said,
more calmly. "Only say you approve of my resolution to seek change for a
short time, till I obtain self-government, and can behold her without
pain; say that I am doing right for myself. I cannot think."

"You are right, quite right," replied Mrs. Hamilton instantly, and her
husband confirmed her words. "I do approve your resolution, though
deeply, most deeply, I regret its cause, St. Eval. Your disappointment
is most bitter, but you grieve not alone. To have given Caroline to you,
to behold her your wife, would have fulfilled every fervent wish of
which she is the object. Not you alone have been deceived; her conduct
has been such as to mislead those who have known her from childhood. St.
Eval, she is not worthy of you."

Disappointed, not only at the blighting of every secret hope, not those
alone in which St. Eval was concerned, but every fond thought she had
indulged in the purity and integrity of her child, in which, though her
confidence had been given to another, she had still implicitly trusted,
the most bitter disappointment and natural displeasure filled that
mother's heart, and almost for the first time since their union Mr.
Hamilton could read this unwonted emotion, in one usually so gentle, in
her kindling eyes and agitated voice.

"Child of my heart, my hopes, my care, as she is, I must yet speak it,
forget her, Eugene; let not the thought of a deceiver, a coquette, debar
you from the possession of that peace which should ever be the portion
of one so truly honourable, so wholly estimable as yourself. You are
disappointed, pained; but you know not--cannot guess the agony it is to
find the integrity in which I so fondly trusted is as naught; that my
child, my own child, whom I had hoped to lead through life without a
stain, is capable of such conduct."

Emotion choked her voice. She had been carried on by the violence of her
feelings, and perhaps said more in that moment of excitement than she
either wished or intended.

St. Eval gazed on the noble woman before him with unfeigned admiration.
He saw the indignation, the displeasure which she felt; it heightened
the dignity of her character in his estimation; but he now began to
tremble for its effects upon her child.

"Do not, my dear Mrs. Hamilton," he said, with some hesitation, "permit
Miss Hamilton's rejection of