Charles so often, and he in
appearance just the same, I fear she does not realize it. She has never
spoken to me on the subject. I fancy she thinks it a scruple;
troublesome, certainly, but of course temporary."

"I must break it to her, Mary," said Campbell.

"Well, I think it _must_ be done," she replied, heaving a sudden sigh;
"and if so, it will be a real kindness in you to save me a task to which
I am quite unequal. But have a talk with Charles first. When it comes to
the point he may have a greater difficulty than he thinks beforehand."

And so it was settled; and, full of care at the double commission with
which he was charged, Campbell rode back to Sutton.

Poor Charles was sitting at an open window, looking out upon the
prospect, when Campbell entered the room. It was a beautiful landscape,
with bold hills in the distance, and a rushing river beneath him.
Campbell came up to him without his perceiving it; and, putting his hand
on his shoulder, asked his thoughts.

Charles turned round, and smiled sadly. "I am like Moses seeing the
land," he said; "my dear Campbell, when shall the end be?"

"That, my good Charles, of course does not rest with me," answered
Campbell.

"Well," said he, "the year is long run out; may I go my way?"

"You can't expect that I, or any of us, should even indirectly
countenance you in what, with all our love of you, we think a sin," said
Campbell.

"That is as much as to say, 'Act for yourself,'" answered Charles;
"well, I am willing."

Campbell did not at once reply; then he said, "I shall have to break it
to your poor mother; Mary thinks it will be her death."

Charles dropped his head on the window-sill, upon his hands. "No," he
said; "I trust that she, and all of us, will be supported."

"So do I, fervently," answered Campbell; "it will be a most terrible
blow to your sisters. My dear fellow, should you not take all this into
account? Do seriously consider the actual misery you are causing for
possible good."

"Do you think I have not considered it, Campbell? Is it nothing for one
like me to be breaking all these dear ties, and to be losing the esteem
and sympathy of so many persons I love? Oh, it has been a most piercing
thought; but I have exhausted it, I have drunk it out. I have got
familiar with the prospect now, and am fully reconciled. Yes, I give up
home, I give up all who have ever known me, loved me, valued me, wished
me well; I know well I am making myself