have lived
ages before!"

"Prettily answered," said Brandon, smiling. "I will tell you at one time
or another what effect that weakness you despise already once had, long
after your age, upon me. You are early wise on some points; profit by my
experience, and be so on all."

"That is to say, in despising all men and all things!" said Lucy, also
smiling.

"Well, never mind my creed,--you may be wise after your own; but trust
one, dearest Lucy, who loves you purely and disinterestedly, and who has
weighed with scales balanced to a hair all the advantages to be gleaned
from an earth in which I verily think the harvest was gathered before we
were put into it,--trust me, Lucy, and never think love, that maiden's
dream, so valuable as rank and power: pause well before you yield to the
former; accept the latter the moment they are offered you. Love puts
you at the feet of another, and that other a tyrant; rank puts others at
your feet, and all those thus subjected are your slaves!"

Lucy moved her chair so that the new position concealed her face, and
did not answer; and Brandon, in an altered tone, continued,--

"Would you think, Lucy, that I once was fool enough to imagine that love
was a blessing, and to be eagerly sought for? I gave up my hopes, my
chances of wealth, of distinction,--all that had burned from the years
of boyhood into my very heart. I chose poverty, obscurity, humiliation;
but I chose also love. What was my reward? Lucy Brandon, I was
deceived,--deceived!"

Brandon paused; and Lucy took his hand affectionately, but did not break
the silence. Brandon resumed:--

"Yes, I was deceived! But I in my turn had a revenge, and a fitting
revenge; for it was not the revenge of hatred, but" (and the speaker
laughed sardonically) "of contempt. Enough of this, Lucy! What I wished
to say to you is this,--grown men and women know more of the truth of
things than ye young persons think for. Love is a mere bauble, and
no human being ever exchanged for it one solid advantage without
repentance. Believe this; and if rank ever puts itself under those
pretty feet, be sure not to spurn the footstool."

So saying, with a slight laugh, Brandon lighted his chamber candle, and
left the room for the night.

As soon as the lawyer reached his own apartment, he indited to Lord
Mauleverer the following epistle:

"Why, dear Mauleverer, do you not come to town? I want you, your
party wants you; perhaps the K--g want