was the
source of that affection, would prompt her to cherish the copy, and,
however precious it was in my eyes, I should cheerfully resign it to
her.

In the confusion of my thoughts an expedient suggested itself
sufficiently inartificial and bold. "It is true, madam, what I have
said. I saw him breathe his last. This is his only legacy. If you wish
it I willingly resign it; but this is all that I can now disclose. I am
placed in circumstances which render it improper to say more."

These words were uttered not very distinctly, and the lady's vehemence
hindered her from noticing them. She again repeated her interrogations,
to which I returned the same answer.

At first she expressed the utmost surprise at my conduct. From this she
descended to some degree of asperity. She made rapid allusions to the
history of Clavering. He was the son of the gentleman who owned the
house in which Welbeck resided. He was the object of immeasurable
fondness and indulgence. He had sought permission to travel, and, this
being refused by the absurd timidity of his parents, he had twice been
frustrated in attempting to embark for Europe clandestinely. They
ascribed his disappearance to a third and successful attempt of this
kind, and had exercised anxious and unwearied diligence in endeavouring
to trace his footsteps. All their efforts had failed. One motive for
their returning to Europe was the hope of discovering some traces of
him, as they entertained no doubt of his having crossed the ocean. The
vehemence of Mrs. Wentworth's curiosity as to those particulars of his
life and death may be easily conceived. My refusal only heightened this
passion.

Finding me refractory to all her efforts, she at length dismissed me in
anger.

CHAPTER VIII.

This extraordinary interview was now past. Pleasure as well as pain
attended my reflections on it. I adhered to the promise I had
improvidently given to Welbeck, but had excited displeasure, and perhaps
suspicion, in the lady. She would find it hard to account for my
silence. She would probably impute it to perverseness, or imagine it to
flow from some incident connected with the death of Clavering,
calculated to give a new edge to her curiosity.

It was plain that some connection subsisted between her and Welbeck.
Would she drop the subject at the point which it had now attained? Would
she cease to exert herself to extract from me the desired information,
or would she not rather make