with my child." "I must indeed speak with you," said Lord Avondale firmly, but with considerable agitation. "Every thing I hold dear—my life—my happiness—depend on what I have to say." He then informed the Duke with sincerity of his attachment for Calantha,—proud and eager to acknowledge it, even though he feared that his hopes might never be realized.
"I am surprised and grieved," said the Duke, "that a young man of your high rank, fortune and rising fame, should thus madly throw away your affections upon the only being perhaps who never must, never ought, to return them. My daughter's hand is promised to another. When I confess this, do not mistake me:—No force will ever be made use of towards her; her inclinations will at all times be consulted, even though she should forget those of her parent; but she is now a mere child, and more infantine and volatile withal, than it is possi-
