"Oh, name her not," exclaimed Seymour, indignantly, "name her not in the same breath with Arabella. If that woman be not worth--as she is not--the lightest thought of an honourable man, she whom I love is surely, by her virtues as well as graces, an object for which any man might sacrifice the highest fortunes of the world without a sign. What is it that we seek on earth, but happiness, Sir Harry? All other objects of ambition are but means to that great end; and it is but in estimating well that in which happiness consists, that men show the difference of their natures. Where--I ask you, my good friend--where could I find any object equal to that I should lose in her, if she be lost?--to that which I shall gain in her, if she be gained? What can one win by the unfruitful glory of the sword, but the malediction of thousands, if we make it the object of ambition? The only just cause is our country's good; and noble love has always strengthened, rather than depressed, the powers and energies of those who fight in an honest quarrel. What are the poor contentions of the cabinet, or the small and mean ambitions of a Court? The weights under which all good things are pressed out of the felon spirit. But such love as I feel for her, and she for me, will not only give happiness to both, but, founded in high and honourable passion, will strengthen and support us in every principle of right, and every worthy endeavour." "'Tis all very true, my young friend," replied Sir Harry West, "and I never for a moment thought of comparing this sweet lady with that bad woman, Rich. Nevertheless, with the impediments that have stared you in the face from the beginning, with the danger of bringing misery upon her as well as yourself, I cannot but say it would have been wiser far to have refrained, to have nipped the growing passion in the bud, and never to have let it take such firm root that it could not be plucked up. It is a silly business, Seymour, I repeat; and God send it prove not sad as well as silly.--However, as it has gone thus far, it must needs now go on; and I must help it, I suppose; for it is never fear for myself that urges me, when I strive to dissuade a friend from a dangerous course, which may involve me with him. We can determine upon nothing yet, till we hear what news the Countess has obtained.--On my life, I know not well my way to this gamekeeper's house, but as we are out of sight of the road it does not so much matter." They wandered near half a mile out of their way; but at length, after considerable search, came to a keeper's dwelling in the wood, where the first question of Sir Harry West was, whether any message had been sent to him from the house. "No, sir," replied the keeper's wife, who was busily preparing her husband's dinner against his return. "There has been nobody from the house at all. Shall I send up the little boy to see?"