rture had come. Custom would make it comparatively easy; as
custom has arranged such a period of mourning for a widow, and such
another for a widower, a son, or a daughter. But here, with Eva,
there would be no custom. She would have nothing to guide her,
and might remain there till the last fatal moment. I had hoped
that she might have married Jack, or perhaps Grundle, during the
interval,--not having foreseen that the year, which was intended to
be one of honour and glory, should become a time of mourning and
tribulation. "Yes, my dear, it is very sad."

"Sad! Was there ever a position in life so melancholy, so mournful,
so unutterably miserable?" I remained there opposite, gazing into
vacancy, but I could say nothing. "What do you intend to do, Mr
Neverbend?" she asked. "It is altogether in your bosom. My father's
life or death is in your hands. What is your decision?" I could only
remain steadfast; but it seemed to be impossible to say so. "Well, Mr
Neverbend, will you speak?"

"It is not for me to decide. It is for the country."

"The country!" she exclaimed, rising up; "it is your own pride,--your
vanity and cruelty combined. You will not yield in this matter to me,
your friend's daughter, because your vanity tells you that when you
have once said a thing, that thing shall come to pass." Then she put
the veil down over her face, and went out of the room.

I sat for some time motionless, trying to turn over in my mind all
that she had said to me; but it seemed as though my faculties were
utterly obliterated in despair. Eva had been to me almost as a
daughter, and yet I was compelled to refuse her request for her
father's life. And when she had told me that it was my pride and
vanity which had made me do so, I could not explain to her that they
were not the cause. And, indeed, was I sure of myself that it was not
so? I had flattered myself that I did it for the public good; but
was I sure that obduracy did not come from my anxiety to be counted
with Columbus and Galileo? or if not that, was there not something
personal to myself in my desire that I should be known as one who had
benefited my species? In considering such matters, it is so hard to
separate the motives,--to say how much springs from some glorious
longing to assist others in their struggle upwards in humanity, and
how much again from mean personal ambition. I had thought that I had
done it all in order that the failing strength of old age might be