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138 "My dear father, can you doubt my prudence?" said the youth, with a little air of pleasure at being thought worthy of confidence.

The next day brought Francesca to the Castle. Of all concerned, she felt most at parting from Lawrence Aylmer's kind and accustomed roof. Lucy, though her tears fell fast when it came to actually bidding good-by, yet was too deeply impressed with what she considered her friend's good fortune to feel regret beyond the present. Besides, she was more than consoled by Lord Avonleigh's declaration, that they should all attend her wedding in the following week: it was impossible to be very miserable with such a prospect before her.

But Francesca felt a deep depression. Here was another great change in her life; and how little encouragement could she draw from its predecessors! None had been for the better. She had quitted the lovely and quiet scenes of her youth for the vexation and vanity of Paris—what a period of fever and disappointment had it been! She had sought England, to see the grave close over the only human being linked to her by ties of blood and long affection—and to find a father who feared to acknowledge her—and to enter another home, as a stranger and as a dependant.