“Yes; and though his base plan, thanks to my sister’s strength of mind, or, rather, my mother’s enduring counsel, has not succeeded, am I to sit calmly by and see her health, spirits, alike sinking beneath that love which the deceiving villain knew so well how to call forth? am I to see this, to gaze on the suffering he has caused, unmoved, and permit him to pass unscathed, as if his victim had neither father nor brother to protect and avenge her injured honour?”

“Her honour is not injured.  She is as innocent and as pure as before Lord Alphingham addressed her.  Percy, you are increasing this just displeasure by imaginary causes.  I do not believe it to be love for him that occasions her present suffering; I think, from the conversations we have had, it is much more like remorse for the past, and bitter grief that the confidence of our parents must, spite of their excessive kindness, be for a time entirely withdrawn, not any lingering affection for Alphingham.”

“Whatever it be, he is the primary cause.  Not injured! every word of love from his lips is pollution; his asking her of my father an atrocious insult; his endeavours to fly with her a deadly sin—­an undying stain.”

Herbert shuddered involuntarily.

“What would you say, or mean?” he exclaimed.

“What have you heard or known concerning him, that calls for words like these?”

“Ask me not, as you love me; it is enough I know he is a villain,” and Percy continued his rapid walk.  Herbert rose from his seat and approached him.

“Percy,” he said, “my dear brother, tell me what is it you would do? to what would this unwonted passion lead?  Oh, let it not gain too great a dominion, Percy.  Dear Percy, what would you do?”

“I would seek him, Herbert,” replied Percy, “where ever he is; by whom surrounded.  I would taunt him as a deceiving, heartless villain, and if he demand satisfaction, by heaven, it would be joy for me to give it!”

“Has passion, then, indeed obtained so much ascendancy, it would be joy for you to meet him thus for blood?” demanded Herbert, fixing his large, melancholy eyes intently on Percy’s face, on which the cloud was becoming darker, and his step even more rapid.  “Would you seek him for the purpose of exciting anger like your own? is it thus you would avenge my sister?”

“Thus, and only thus,” answered Percy, with ungoverned fury.  “As others have done; man to man I would meet him, and villain as he is, I would have honourable vengeance for the insult, not only to my sister, but to us all.  Why should I stay my hand?”

“Why? because on you more than on many others has the light of our blessed religion dawned,” answered Herbert, calmly; “because you know what others think not of, that the law of our Master forbiddeth blood; that whosoever sheds it, on whatever plea, his shall be demanded in return; because you know, in seeking vengeance by blood, His law is disobeyed, and His vengeance you would call upon yourself.  Percy, you will not, you dare not act as this overwhelming passion dictates.”