intrusion of such reflections, they were soon dissipated from his mind, from the firm belief that his misguided son was then suffering under a just chastisement, brought upon him by his irregularities, and disobedience to his wishes and advice.
Sometimes, from that period, an occasional thought of the unhappy De Brooke, whether in existence or otherwise, chequered with gloom his broad and far-extended vistas of ideal glory, and sent a cloud over his brow. It was after the lapse of some weeks, when nothing had transpired that might give reply to his secret inquiries, that he was awakened from the apparent indifference into which he had sunk by the letter from Mrs. De Brooke, from which he learnt that his son, though still alive, was lingering at the last extremity.
This epistle, dictated in terms that might have penetrated the soul of any but himself, shielded as it was by the armour of offended pride, and the self-accusing interpretation he naturally put upon expressions, conveyed but too faithfully a picture, the reality of which alone was a tacit reproach to his cruelty, while conscience "held the mirror up to nature": there needed no colouring of hers, however chaste and softened by the fear to offend;
