He was long before he had courage to read the letter, though he little foreboded all the shock that it would give him.

It was the first letter, not destined to himself, of which he had ever broken the seal.

Even that recollection made the honourable old man pause; but his duty was plain and evident, as head of the house and guardian to his niece.

Thrice he wiped his spectacles; still they were dim, still the tears would come.

He rose tremblingly, walked to the window, and saw the stately deer grouped in the distance, saw the church spire that rose above the burial vault of his ancestors, and his heart sank deeper and deeper as he muttered: "Vain pride! pride!" Then he crept to the door and locked it, and at last, seating himself firmly, as a wounded man to some terrible operation, he read the letter.
Heaven support thee, old man! thou hast to pass through the bitterest trial which honour and affection can undergo,--household treason.