94 THE LANSBYS OF LAKSBY HALL. 



" And as such he curses me, or the Lansby blood has turned 

 to milk within his veins. What has he done, you ask me? 

 What has he not done to baulk and injure me ? Does he not 

 live ? Is he not * a gay and prosperous gentleman,' with hope, 

 fame, happiness all before him, while the golden locks of my 

 noble Harry are gone down into the dust? Why is mi/ son 

 taken from me, while fortune showers all her blessings upon 

 theirs r 



Julia looked in her father's face as he uttered these words ; 

 but withdrew her eyes, as if horror-struck with the fierce ma- 

 lignity of his looks and language. 



" You shudder," he continued, **but it is not madness that 

 makes me speak thus. See, I am cool ; nay, I can smile — and 

 why should I not ? Is not the story I am now about to tell you 

 a pleasant one ? Come hither, child, and listen — I was an only 

 son; but my father was afraid I should be spoiled, as only sons 

 usually are, and had my cousin to live with me, and treated us 

 in all respects alike. Our boyhood passed without any occur- 

 rence to call forth our characters, except that, probably from 

 knowing his dependent situation, his manners were so soft and 

 insinuating, that they formed a striking contrast to the manliness 

 and independence of mine. At college, to which we went toge-^- 

 ther, and where by my father's orders our intimacy was continued, 

 we were called Lansby the proud and Lansby the gentle. I 

 confess I felt myself flattered by the distinction. We returned 

 home ; we hated each other. At all events, I can answer for 

 myself: for him, I scarcely think he had manliness enough to 

 hate anything. My mother now was growing old. She had a 

 companion to reside with her. She was young and beautiful — 

 surpassingly beautiful. She was a relation of my mother — high- 

 born and poor. Ere long I perceived that my cousin Edgar was 

 passionately in love with Helen. What right had he, the soft, 

 the delicate, the gentle, to lift his eyes to so glorious an object as 

 Helen Trevor? / loved her; and it added to the intensity of my 

 passion to think how the insolence of my rival would be punished 

 when I should ask the hand of the object of his passion. I did 

 ask her hand; she refused it, and asked for my intercession with 

 my father to secure his approbation of her marriage with my cou- 

 sin. From that hour I hated both. Was I not justified? But 

 I was revenged. Edgar was going into orders. My father had 

 promised him the family living : the incumbent was infirm and 

 old. They married; I gave away the bride. They lived the 



