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760 Again Lady Montfort shook her head drearily—drearily.

"Well," said the Colonel, changing his tone, "I will grant that those former ties can't be renewed now. The man now is as old as the hills, and you had no right to expect that he would have suffered so much at being very naturally jilted for a handsome young Marquis."

"Cease, Sir, cease!" cried Caroline, angrily. The Colonel coolly persisted.

"I see now that such nuptials are out of the question. But has the world come to such a pass that one can never at any age have a friend in a lady unless she marry him? Scruple to accompany me—me, your cousin—me, your nearest surviving relation—in order to take back the young lady you have virtually adopted—scruple to trust yourself for half an hour to that tumble-down old Fawley! Are you afraid that the gossips will say you, the Marchioness of Montfort, are running after a gloomy old widower, and scheming to be mistress of a mansion more like a ghost-trap than a residence for civilized beings? Or are you afraid that Guy Darrell will be fool and fop enough to think you are come to force on him your hand? Pooh, pooh! Such scruples would be in place if you were a portionless, forward girl; or if he were a conceited young puppy, or even a suspicious old roué. But Guy Darrell—a man of his station, his character, his years! And you, cousin Caroline, what are you? Surely, lifted above all such pitiful crotchets by a rank among the loftiest gentlewomen of England;—ample fortune, a beauty that in itself is rank and wealth; and, above all, a character that has passed with venerated purity through that ordeal in which every eye seeks a spot, every ear invites a scandal. But as you will. All I say is, that Darrell's future may be in your hands; that, after to-morrow, the occasion to give at least noble occupation and lasting renown to a mind that is devouring itself and stifling its genius, may be irrevocably lost; and that I do believe, if you said to-morrow to Guy Darrell, 'You refused to hear me when I pleaded for what you thought a disgrace to your fame, and yet even that you at last conceded to the voice of affection as if of duty—now hear me when I plead by the side of your oldest friend on behalf of your honor, and in the name of your forefathers'—if you say, he is won to his country. You will have repaired a wrong; and, pray, will you have compromised your dignity?"

Caroline recoiled into the corner of the carriage, her mantle close drawn round her breast, her veil lowered; but no sheltering garb or veil could conceal her agitation.