The condition upon which I tell you what I believe to be the cause of all is, that you let things remain as they are, and keep silence forever about them." "Oh, you can not be so cruel, so atrocious!" I cried, in my bitter disappointment.

"What good would it be for me to know things thus, and let the vile wrong continue?
Surely you are not bound to lay on me a condition so impossible ?" "After much consideration and strong wish to have it otherwise, I have concluded that I am so bound." "In duty to my father, or the family, or what?
Forgive me for asking, but it does seem so hard." "It seems hard, my dear, and it is hard as well," he answered, very gently, yet showing in his eyes and lips no chance of any yielding.

"But remember that I do not know, I only guess, the secret; and if you give the pledge I speak of, you merely follow in your father's steps." "Never," I replied, with as firm a face as his.

"It may have been my father's duty, or no doubt he thought it so; but it can not be mine, unless I make it so by laying it on my honor.

And I will not do that." "Perhaps you are right; but, at any rate, remember that I have not tried to persuade you.