"Poor Constance!" exclaimed her father.
"Nay," interrupted Norbourne, "do not fear for her. She, at least, shall never know that at the altar where I pledged my faith, did I also sacrifice my sweetest and my best hopes. She shall not be the victim of your ambition. Carefully will I guard her from any sorrow that rests with me: pity girdles her round with a tenderness, deep almost as love. And now, my lord, I conclude that our conference is at an end: why should we inflict unnecessary pain on each other?"
"Not yet," exclaimed his uncle, yielding wholly to the impulse of strong emotion. "Norbourne, I am neither so callous nor so worldly as you deem me. Look on these portraits!" and he pointed to four pictures that hung on the wall opposite. Never was the painter's skill taxed to give more lovely likenesses of humanity. There were four blooming girls, all drawn at full length; and, though different, it was hard to say which was the most beautiful. "Are not those children of
