you see, my love, I have sent for you, to give him permission to destroy himself, in any way he pleases; and I leave him to show cause why—(it is a fate that sooner or later happens to all his fellow men)—sentence of death should not be passed against him." Having delivered this speech with more propriety of word than usually fell to his share, the Squire rose hastily, and hobbled out of the room.
Lucy sank into the chair her father had quitted, and Clifford approaching towards her, said, in a hoarse and low voice,
"Your father, Miss Brandon, says rightly, that I would die rather than lift my eyes in hope to you. I thought yesterday that I had seen you for the last time;—chance—not my own folly or presumption, has brought me again before you, and even the few hours I have passed under the same roof with you, have made me feel as if my love—my madness—had never reached its height till now. Oh, Lucy!" continued Clifford, in a more impassioned tone, and as if by a sudden and
