e and her father.

Had her mother lived, perchance Marie had never been exposed to the
dangers of an introduction to the world. Betrothed, in the secret
hearts of not only her own parents, but of Ferdinand's mother, to her
cousin, if she lived to attain sufficient age, Miriam would not have
thought it so impossible as Manuel did, that the affections of his
child might be sought for by, and given to another, if she mingled
with the world; she would at least have waited till she was
Ferdinand's wedded wife, and then sent her forth secure. But such
subtle fears and feelings are peculiarly _woman's_; not the tenderest,
most devoted father, could of himself have either thought of, or
understood them. He might perhaps have owned their justice had they
been presented to him by the affectionate warnings of an almost
idolized wife; but that voice was hushed, her sweet counsels buried
in the grave; and the fond, proud father, only thought of his child's
brilliant beauty, and how she would be admired and beloved, could she
be but generally known. And so, for her sake, he actually did violence
to his own love for the quiet retirement of the vale, and bore her to
the care of Donna Emilie de Castro; seeing nothing, feeling nothing,
but the admiration she excited, and that she was indeed the loveliest
there. One wish he had, and that was, that his nephew could have been
there likewise; but being engaged at that time on some important
private business for the Queen, Ferdinand did not even know that his
cousin had ever left the vale.

That his child's affections could be excited towards any but those of
her own race was a circumstance so impossible, and moreover a sin so
fearful, that it never entered Manuel's mind: he knew not woman's
nature, dreamed not of its quick impulses, its passionate yearnings,
its susceptibility towards all gentle emotions, or he could not have
so trustingly believed in the power of her peculiar faith and creed
to guard her from the danger. Even his dearest desire that she should
become the wife of her cousin she knew not; for the father shrunk from
revealing it to either his child or nephew, unless Ferdinand loved
and sought her himself. What therefore had she to warn her from the
precipice on which she stood, when new, strange, yet most exquisitely
sweet emotions gradually obtained possession of her heart in her daily
intercourse with Arthur Stanley? What they were indeed she knew not;
the word love was ne