us shortly.”  Saying these words, he smiled and vanished.  I remained silent.  To be left alone with Mr Fairman, was the most annoying circumstance that could happen in my present mood.  There were a hundred things which I burned to know, whilst I lacked the courage to enquire concerning one.  But I had waited for an opportunity to decline his invitation.  Here it was, and I had not power to lift my head and look at him.  Mr Fairman himself did not speak for some minutes.  He sat thoughtfully, resting his forehead in the palm of his hand—­his elbow on the table.  At length he raised his eyes, and whilst my own were still bent downward, I could feel that his were fixed upon me.

“Caleb,” said the minister.

It was the first time that the incumbent had called me by my Christian name.  How strangely it sounded from his lips!  How exquisitely grateful it dropt upon my ear!

“Tell me, Caleb,” continued Mr Fairman, “did I understand you right?  Is it true that Mayhew has told you nothing?”

“Nothing distinctly, sir,” I answered—­“I have gathered something from his hints, but I know not what he says in jest and what in earnest.”

“I have only her happiness at heart, Stukely—­from the moment that you spoke to me on the subject, I have acted solely with regard to that.  I hoped to have smothered this passion in the bud.  In attempting it, I believed I was acting as a father should, and doing my duty by her.”

The room began to swim round me, and my head grew dizzy.

“I am to blame, perhaps, as Mayhew says, for having brought you together, and for surrounding her with danger.  I should have known that to trifle with a heart so guileless and so pure was cruel and unjust, and fraught with perilous consequences.  I was blind, and I am punished for my act.”

I looked at him at length.

“I use the word deliberately—­punished, Stukely.  It is a punishment to behold the affection of which I have ever been too jealous, departing from me, and ripening for another.  Why have I cared to live since Heaven took her mother to itself—­but for her sake, for her welfare, and her love?  But sorrow and regret are useless now.  You do not know, young man, a thousandth part of your attainment when I tell you, you have gained her young and virgin heart.  I oppose you no longer—­I thwart not—­render yourself worthy of the precious gift.”

“I cannot speak, sir!” I exclaimed, seizing the hand of the incumbent in the wildness of my joy.  “I am stupified by this intelligence!  Trust me, sir—­believe me, you shall find me not undeserving of your generosity and”——­

“No, Stukely.  Call it not by such a name.  It is any thing but that; there is no liberality, no nobility of soul, in giving you what I may not now withhold.  I cannot see her droop and die, and live myself to know that a word from me had saved her.  I have given my consent to the prosecution of your attachment at the latest moment—­not because I wished it, but to prevent a greater evil.  I have told you the truth!  It was due to us both that you should hear it; for the future look upon me as your father, and I will endeavour to do you justice.”