been present to your mind,
and prevented you from taking the first fatal step. I can only entreat
you to pause, and consider the ruin and degradation to which this
hateful vice almost invariably conducts its victims, and consistently
with my duty as your guardian, everything in my power shall be done
to extricate you from the embarrassments in which you have involved
yourself. But, in the first place, I make it a point that you treat me
with perfect confidence, and make a full, unequivocal statement of your
proceedings; above all, that you explain the circumstances, occasioning
your request for this large sum. Remember, I say, complete candour on
your part will afford the only means of rescuing you from difficulties,
or of in any degree restoring you to my good opinion.'

So far the letter had proceeded slowly, for Philip was careful and
deliberate in composition, and while he was weighing his words, Mr.
Edmonstone rushed on with something unfit to stand, so as to have to
begin over again. At last, the town clock struck five; Philip started,
declaring that if he was not at the station in five minutes, he should
lose the train; engaged to come to Hollywell on the day an answer might
be expected, and hastened away, satisfied by having seen two sheets
nearly filled, and having said there was nothing more but to sign, seal,
and send it.

Mr. Edmonstone had, however, a page of note-paper more, and it was with
a sensation of relief that he wrote,--

'I wish, from the bottom of my heart, that you could clear yourself. If
a dozen men had sworn it till they were black in the face, I would not
have believed it of you that you could serve us in such a manner,
after the way you have been treated at home, and to dare to think of my
daughter with such things on your mind. I could never have believed it,
but for the proofs Philip has brought; and I am sure he is as sorry as
myself. Only tell the whole truth, and I will do my best to get you out
of the scrape. Though all else must be at an end between us, I am your
guardian still, and I will not be harsh with you.'

He posted his letter, climbed up his tall horse, and rode home, rather
heavy-hearted; but his wrath burning out as he left Broadstone behind
him. He saw his little Amy gay and lively, and could not bear to sadden
her; so he persuaded himself that there was no need to mention
the suspicions till he had heard what Guy had to say for himself.
Accordingly, he told no one b