d to him by his own father,
that he had never heard who his mother was, nor what rank in life she
occupied. When I said that she was one in high station, that she was
alive and well, and one of my own dearest friends, a sudden crimson
covered his face, as quickly followed by a sickly pallor; and though he
trembled in every limb, he never spoke a word. I endeavored to excite
in him some desire to learn more of her, if not to see her, but in
vain. The hard lesson he had taught himself enabled him to repress
every semblance of feeling. It was only when at last, driven to the very
limits of my patience, I abruptly asked him, 'Have you no wish to see
your mother?' that his coldness gave way, and, in a voice tremulous and
thick, he said, 'My shame is enough for myself.' I was burning to say
more, to put before him a contingency, the mere shadow of a possibility
that his claim to birth and station might one day or other be
vindicated. I did not actually do so, but I must have let drop some
chance word that betrayed my meaning, for he caught me up quickly, and
said, 'It would come too late, if it came even to-day. I am that which
I am by many a hard struggle; you 'll never see me risk a disappointment
in life by any encouragement I may give to hope.'

"I then adverted to his father; but he checked me at once, saying,
'When the ties that should be closest in life are stained with shame and
dishonor, they are bonds of slavery, not of affection. My debt to Lord
Glencore is the degradation I live in,--none other. His heritage to me
is the undying conflict in my heart between what I once thought I was
and what I now know I am. If we met, it would be to tell him so.' In a
word, every feature of the father's proud unforgivingness is reproduced
in the boy, and I dreaded the very possibility of their meeting. If
ever Lord Glencore avow his marriage and vindicate his wife's honor, his
hardest task will be reconciliation with this boy."

"All, and more than all, the evils I anticipated have followed this
insane vengeance," said Upton. "I begin to think that one ought to leave
a golden bridge even to our revenge, Princess."

"Assuredly, wherever a woman is the victim," said she, smiling; "for you
are so certain to have reasons for distrusting yourself."

Upton sat meditating for some time on the plan of the Princess; had
it only originated with himself, it was exactly the kind of project he
would have liked. He knew enough of life to be