this smiling infant? Do not desert her, but do not educate the offspring of guilt in the bosom of your own family.'"
"And did Sir Ambrose say this?" exclaimed Father Morris, grinding his teeth together, and scarcely able to articulate from the strength of the emotion that convulsed his frame. The duke, however, did not hear his question, and passionately continued—"He advised well, but I was deaf to his counsel; Fate hurried me on to my own destruction, and I nourished with the tenderest care a wretch whom I have this day discovered plotting with traitors to deprive my child of her birthright!"
"What do you mean, my Lord?" said Rosabella; "I do not understand you."
"Yes, yes!" replied the duke, "ask what I mean; you may well assume that face or smiling innocence—too —too often it has served your purpose! Fool, idiot, that I have been, to have been so easily deceived! But your arts will now be vain. Lord Gustavus de Montfort would not have openly declared himself your
