when I followed his example, and
requested me not to be in haste; "he had business to transact, and would
rejoin us shortly." Saying these words, he smiled and vanished. I
remained silent. To be left alone with Mr Fairman, was the most annoying
circumstance that could happen in my present mood. There were a hundred
things which I burned to know, whilst I lacked the courage to enquire
concerning one. But I had waited for an opportunity to decline his
invitation. Here it was, and I had not power to lift my head and look at
him. Mr Fairman himself did not speak for some minutes. He sat
thoughtfully, resting his forehead in the palm of his hand--his elbow on
the table. At length he raised his eyes, and whilst my own were still
bent downward, I could feel that his were fixed upon me.

"Caleb," said the minister.

It was the first time that the incumbent had called me by my Christian
name. How strangely it sounded from his lips! How exquisitely grateful
it dropt upon my ear!

"Tell me, Caleb," continued Mr Fairman, "did I understand you right? Is
it true that Mayhew has told you nothing?"

"Nothing distinctly, sir," I answered--"I have gathered something from
his hints, but I know not what he says in jest and what in earnest."

"I have only her happiness at heart, Stukely--from the moment that you
spoke to me on the subject, I have acted solely with regard to that. I
hoped to have smothered this passion in the bud. In attempting it, I
believed I was acting as a father should, and doing my duty by her."

The room began to swim round me, and my head grew dizzy.

"I am to blame, perhaps, as Mayhew says, for having brought you
together, and for surrounding her with danger. I should have known that
to trifle with a heart so guileless and so pure was cruel and unjust,
and fraught with perilous consequences. I was blind, and I am punished
for my act."

I looked at him at length.

"I use the word deliberately--_punished_, Stukely. It _is_ a punishment
to behold the affection of which I have ever been too jealous, departing
from me, and ripening for another. Why have I cared to live since Heaven
took her mother to itself--but for her sake, for her welfare, and her
love? But sorrow and regret are useless now. You do not know, young man,
a thousandth part of your attainment when I tell you, you have gained
her young and virgin heart. I oppose you no longer--I thwart not--render
yourself worthy of the precious gift."

"I cann