<§> 
THE LADY PILGRIM. 85 
thd chair recently occupied by her father, and then 
sat as if waiting the opening of a conversation, 
which a delicate instinct seemed to teach her 
was to follow, and which she knew would cause _ 
wounds she could never heal. 
“ My daughter has not forgotten one to whom, 
under God, she owes her life ! ” said the earl, half 
angrily, as he marked her merely polite reception 
of their illustrious guest; “the Duke of Devon¬ 
shire needs no formal introduction to her, I am 
sure: he rescued you from a watery grave.” 
“ I i/joulcl have done it, and been most happy 
in perilling my life for one so priceless,” said the 
duke, in an agitated voice ; “ but an arm, stronger 
than mine, bore her from the waves, while I re¬ 
ceived her from the bank. For the trifling service 
I was then happy enough to have it in my power 
to render, no thanks are due.” 
“ I have been assured by my servants, who wit¬ 
nessed the scene,” said the earl, “ that it was to 
your bravery I am indebted for the life of my 
child. Our interview was brief at that time, and 
my feelings were too much agitated to admit of 
my thanking you as I ought. My child has since 
met with you, and thanked you in person, I have 
been told; but neither thanks nor gold can pay 
the debt of gratitude we are under to you.” 
“ I should, indeed, be blameworthy and un¬ 
thankful, my dear father, were I ever to forget the 
service rendered me by the duke and his friend in 
.—~ - © 
