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156 for the success of a favourite project. Tell me that you will marry Constance: save me from shame—from death!" Norbourne stood silent and irresolute. Ethel and his mother rose confusedly together; but Mrs. Courtenaye could not bear the suspense. She sprang from her seat—she threw herself at her son's feet, and, resisting all his attempts to raise her, exclaimed, while she clasped his knees with passionate vehemence, "Never, never will I rise till you promise to save me from all I most loathe and fear! Must I be made a by-word and a scorn? The days of my youth and beauty to be remembered only to tell how fair I was as Courtenaye's mistress! To become the subject of the pity I have so despised! Norbourne, you are your father's representative; you owe me some atonement: at our hands I ask the name and fame which your father risked in his selfish passion. The God whose shrine I deserted for earthly affection is terribly avenged. My husband deceived—my son deserts me; but you cannot, Norbourne,