'Would to heaven, my dear mother,' said Adeline, when Mrs Mowbray had done speaking, 'that you had said all this to me ere my mind had been indelibly impressed with the truth of these forbidden doctrines; for now my conscience tells me that I ought to act up to them!' 'How!' exclaimed Mrs Mowbray, starting up in her bed, and in a voice shrill with emotion, 'are you then resolved to disobey me, and dishonour yourself?' 'Oh! never, never!' replied Adeline, alarmed at her mother's violence, and fearful of a relapse. 'Be but the kind affectionate parent that you have ever been to me; and though I will never marry out of regard to my own principles, I will also never contract any other union, out of respect to your wishes,--but will lead with you a quiet, if not a _happy_ life; for never, never can I forget Glenmurray.' 'There speaks the excellent child I always thought you to be!' replied Mrs Mowbray; 'and I shall leave it to time and good counsels to convince you, that the opinions of a girl of eighteen, as they are not founded on long experience, may possibly be erroneous.' Mrs Mowbray never made a truer observation; but Adeline was not in a frame of mind to assent to it. 'Besides,' continued Mrs Mowbray, 'had I ever been disposed to accept of Mr Glenmurray as a son-in-law, it is very unlikely that I should be so now; as the duel took place not only, I find, from the treasonable opinions which he put forth, but from some disrespectful language which he held concerning me.' 'Who could dare to invent so infamous a calumny!' exclaimed Adeline. 'My authority is unquestionable, Miss Mowbray; I speak from Sir Patrick himself.' 'Then he adds falsehood to his other villanies!' returned Adeline, almost inarticulate with rage:--'but what could be expected from a man who could dare to insult a young woman under the roof of her mother with his licentious addresses?' 'What mean you?' cried Mrs Mowbray, turning pale. 'I mean that Sir Patrick yesterday morning insulted me by the grossest familiarities, and--' 'My dear child,' replied Mrs Mowbray laughing, 'that is only the usual freedom of his manner; a manner which your ignorance of the world led you to mistake. He did not mean to insult you, believe me, I am sure that, spite of his ardent passion for me, he never, even when alone with me, hazarded any improper liberty.' 'The ardent passion which he feels for you, madam!' exclaimed Adeline, turning pale in her turn. 'Yes, Miss Mowbray! What, I suppose you think me too old to inspire one!--But, I assure you, there are people who think the mother handsomer than the daughter!' 'No doubt, dear mother, every one ought to think so,--and would to heaven Sir Patrick were one of those! But he, unfortunately--' 'Is of that opinion,' interrupted Mrs Mowbray angrily: 'and to convince you--so tenderly does he love me, and so fondly do I return his passion, that in a few days I shall become his wife.'