said; "Without entering upon further preface, I shall state at once to you, Aubrey, that it is a disgraceful passion I urge you to subdue; a passion which holds you in bondage, closes the world against you, robs you of every advantage, and, above all, of your father's friendship."
De Brooke started. To what insidious calumny had his father listened, or to what peculiar passion did he allude? He had no reproaches to make himself, excepting on the score of prodigality.
"No man," continued Sir Aubrey, "was ever guilty of greater weakness, of greater folly, was ever more blind to his proper interests: had you been guided more by reason, and less by the love of pleasure, instead of yielding to so fatal an infatuation, you would have exerted all your powers to have resisted it."
Still ambiguous as was Sir Aubrey in all he said, De Brooke could only apply his language to that which most prevailed over his thoughts, the deranged state of his finances. In begging, therefore, his father to spare his further rebukes, he added; "Having already abjured my errors, sir, I am resolved my future conduct shall testify the sincerity of my reformation."
"It is what I ardently hope," resumed Sir Aubrey, softening the asperity of his accents; "and
