shows that he consented to it, and God knows I did. But these
lawyers will not let well alone, and by trying to mend things make them
worse, I think. However, I suppose you have gone too far to go back; and
so I must go to a strange out of the way country and hide myself and
live quite lonely. Well, I am ready--I am ready to make any sacrifice
for you, my boy--though it is very hard, I must say."

As she spoke, she rose with her eyes running over, and her son kissed
her and assured her that her absence should not be long. But just as she
was moving towards the door, he put a paper--a somewhat long one--on the
table, where a pen was already in the inkstand, saying, "just sign this
before you go, dear mother."

"Oh, I cannot sign any thing," cried the lady, wiping her eyes; "how can
you be so cruel, John, as to ask me to sign any thing just now when I am
parting with you? What is it you want?"

"It is only a declaration that you are truly my father's widow," said
John Ayliffe; "see here, the declaration, &c., you need not read it, but
only just sign here."

She hesitated an instant; but his power over her was complete; and,
though she much doubted the contents, she signed the paper with a
trembling hand. Then came a parting full of real tenderness on her part,
and assumed affection and regret on his. The post-chaise, which had been
standing for an hour at the door, rolled away, and John Ayliffe walked
back into the house.

When there, he walked up and down the room for some time, with an
impatient thoughtfulness, if I may use the term, in his looks, which had
little to do with his mother's departure. He was glad that she was
gone--still gladder that she had signed the paper; and now he seemed
waiting for something eagerly expected.

At length there came a sound of a quick trotting horse, and John Ayliffe
took the paper from the table hastily, and put it in his pocket. But the
visitor was not the one he expected. It was but a servant with a letter;
and as the young man took it from the hand of the maid who brought it
in, and gazed at the address, his cheek flushed a little, and then
turned somewhat pale. He muttered to himself, "she has not taken long to
consider!"

As soon as the slipshod girl had gone out of the room, he broke the seal
and read the brief answer which Emily had returned to his declaration.

It would not be easy for an artist to paint, and it is impossible for a
writer to describe, the expression