How long Mr. Benson might have gone on thus giving vent to the thoughts which apparently now constantly engrossed his mind, it is impossible to say; for, kind-hearted and affectionate as he was, he had so little notion of the nature of love, of the refinement of poor Emmeline’s passion, and of the feelings of a lacerated heart that recoils from every touch, that he had no idea he was running daggers into hers; till, no longer able to endure the torture of his words, and grasping his arm in agony, “Oh, my father!” she exclaimed, “do not talk of him.” “Well, well,” said he, patting her hand as he looked with concern on her suffering countenance, “if it displeases you, we need not talk of the matter just now; but remember, Emmy, one month more, and I _will_ have my own way in this business.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER IV. “Un siècle d’attente—un jour de bonheur.” TEN days of the month passed, and still no intelligence of any sort about Lord Fitzhenry reached Charlton. Emmeline saw his and Pelham’s name in the papers among those who had crossed the water to Calais; but she heard no more. This strange silence seemed to confirm her husband’s hostile determination with regard to her, and to fix her future fate. She uttered no complaint, shed no tears, was silent, and resigned, and appeared to be some figure wound up to perform the ordinary actions of life without taking any part in them, so still was her composure. But sometimes, when her mother looked at her, pressed her hand, or kissed her pale cheek, then, a momentary convulsive sob would escape from her oppressed bosom, and a solitary burning tear would steal down her face. There is a dead pause in affliction which is dreadful. As long as we have to act, to exert ourselves, even though those exertions may be painful, still they are more bearable than sitting down quietly with grief, without any thing to look to. When day after day passes the same, and when at last from the sameness of our thoughts and feelings, even suffering has no longer power to affect us, our tears cease to flow, though the heart within is breaking.