but of clear-flaming resinous
billets, chattered upon silver dogs. In this elegant and plain
apartment, Mr. Godall sat in a morning muse, placidly gazing at the fire
and hearkening to the rain upon the roof.

"Ha, my dear Mr. Somerset," said he, "and have you since last night
adopted any fresh political principle?"

"The lady, sir," said Somerset, with another blush.

"You have seen her, I believe?" returned Mr. Godall; and on Somerset's
replying in the affirmative: "You will excuse me, my dear sir," he
resumed, "if I offer you a hint. I think it not improbable this lady may
desire entirely to forget the past. From one gentleman to another, no
more words are necessary."

A moment after, he had received Mrs. Desborough with that grave and
touching urbanity that so well became him.

"I am pleased, madam, to welcome you to my poor house," he said; "and
shall be still more so, if what were else a barren courtesy and a
pleasure personal to myself, shall prove to be of serious benefit to you
and Mr. Desborough."

"Your highness," replied Clara, "I must begin with thanks; it is like
what I have heard of you, that you should thus take up the case of the
unfortunate; and as for my Harry, he is worthy of all that you can do."
She paused.

"But for yourself?" suggested Mr. Godall--"it was thus you were about to
continue, I believe."

"You take the words out of my mouth," she said. "For myself, it is
different."

"I am not here to be a judge of men," replied the prince; "still less of
women. I am now a private person like yourself and many million others;
but I am one who still fights upon the side of quiet. Now, madam, you
know better than I, and God better than you, what you have done to
mankind in the past; I pause not to inquire; it is with the future I
concern myself, it is for the future I demand security. I would not
willingly put arms into the hands of a disloyal combatant; and I dare
not restore to wealth one of the levyers of a private and a barbarous
war. I speak with some severity, and yet I pick my terms. I tell myself
continually that you are a woman; and a voice continually reminds me of
the children whose lives and limbs you have endangered. A woman," he
repeated solemnly--"and children. Possibly, madam, when you are yourself
a mother, you will feel the bite of that antithesis: possibly when you
kneel at night beside a cradle, a fear will fall upon you, heavier than
any shame; and when your child lies i