"Is it of you, dearest mother," said I, "that bad men dare whisper hard things?
Who could look at that pure lovely face and believe aught against your honour?
I could despise my father, though his only son, could I for an instant imagine him capable of taking advantage of such youth and innocence.

But no, it is a foul slander invented by a villain to answer some base purpose; and may I perish, when I believe it true!" I locked the portraits carefully in my desk, and retired to bed.

The wine I had drank and the unusual excitement of my feelings for a long time prevented sleep, and it was the dawn of day before I sank to rest..