vering lips, but again averting his gaze, and turning suddenly away, whilst measuring his steps, the violence of his rage burst inward; finding vent in terms deep, smothered and incoherent. The space of a few minutes thus elapsed, and De Brooke hesitated whether he should attempt to appease his wrath, by again pleading his suit; to raise his voice, however, he found impossible, so formidable seemed the pause; which at last was broken by Sir Aubrey loudly denouncing imprecations upon his son. He then violently flung open a door, closed it after him, and disappeared.
Thus in a fit of passion, as was usual with Sir Aubrey, terminated this dispute, leaving De Brooke in a state easier to conjecture than describe. "A father's curse!" he inwardly exclaimed; "my offence—is it of so great a magnitude to wed without a parent's knowledge? does it merit a parent's curse?" He fervently prayed it might not; and becoming less perturbed by the feelings which insinuated themselves, he left the house.
However Sir Aubrey might be aware of the rash and hasty character of his son, he was nevertheless far from supposing him so wholly lost and blind to his future interests, as at once to have plunged himself into disasters of such an accumulated nature, as those which he had gathered
