nerous, benevolent action--one without reference
to self.... Heaven bless thee, thou dearest thing, thy life seems only
made up of such actions; but I say again, did you ever?--No; I know you
never did--and I'll tell you why I know it."

"Ah, papa! What _can_ you mean?"

"Because," he went on without seeming to mind her emotion, "because, I
observe, that whenever you want to persuade other people--your mother,
or Edgar, or Lettice, for instance--to do something you've set your
heart upon, you hussy--you always enlarge upon the happiness it will
give to other people; but when you're trying to come round me, you only
talk of how comfortable it will make myself."

She could only utter a faint exclamation. The accusation, if accusation
it may be called, was not to be denied.

"Now, Catherine, since this young man came into the house, what with his
conversation, he's a most gentlemanlike, agreeable converser as ever I
met with ... and the prayers, and the chapters, and such like; and, in
short, a certain new tone of thought altogether; there has been
gradually something new growing up in me. I have at times begun to think
back upon my life, and to recollect what a nasty, mean, greedy,
calculating, selfish fellow I've been throughout, never troubling myself
about other people's comforts, or so on, but going on as if every body
was only created to promote mine; and I'd have been glad, Catherine,
before I went into my grave, which won't be long too--I own to you I
would have been glad, for once in my life to have done a purely good,
unselfish thing--made a sacrifice, as you pious folk call it; and,
therefore, to own the truth, I have been very sorry, and could not help
feeling disappointed, as here you've sat prosing this half hour and
more, showing me what a great deal I was to get by this notable
arrangement of yours."

"Papa!--dearest--dear papa!"

"Be quiet--I have indeed--I'd have liked to have had something to give
up, instead of its being, as I verily believe it is, the most charmingly
delightful scheme for your mother and me that ever was hit upon--for
that man is the happiness of my life--my body's comfort and my soul's
health--and Lettice is more like a dear child than any thing else to
that poor mother of yours, whom I have not, perhaps, been so considerate
of as I ought; and to have them thus fixed together in this house, is
better luck than could be conceived, such as scarcely ever happens in
this world to a