nour bound him to seek vengeance. I am that Ravenswood, who, for your sake, forgave, nay, clasped hands in friendship with the oppressor and pillager of his house—the traducer and murderer of his father."
"My daughter," answered Lady Ashton, interrupting him, "has no occasion to dispute the identity of your person; the venom of your present language is sufficient to remind her, that she speaks with the mortal enemy of her father."
"I pray you to be patient, madam," answered Ravenswood; "my answer must come from her own lips.—Once more. Miss Lucy Ashton, I am that Ravenswood to whom you granted the solemn engagement, which you now desire to retract and cancel."
Lucy's bloodless lips could only faulter out the words, "It was my mother."
"She speaks truly," said Lady Ashton; "it was I, who, authorised alike by the laws of God and man, advised her, and concurred with her, to set aside an unhappy
