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Enter from the same side by which  disappeared, and he runs to her and locks her in his arms, both remaining silent for a time.

My father! my dear, dear father!

My own sweet Violet! all that I can call my own, and worth all that I have lost. But for thee, my dear child, I should in truth be, what I am now, by all but thyself, believed to be,—no longer a being of this world.

Say not so, my dear father! are there not kindness and humanity every where, whether you receive it under one name or another? And if this be not the case, take me with you, and you shall be no longer friendless and bereft.

No, Violet; that I will never do. To see thee by stealth, were it but a few times in the course of years, with sad dreary intervals between, is still worth living for; and more than a man, stained with the blood of a fellow creature, deserves.

Ah, why will you tax yourself so harshly! The quarrel was fastened on you.