“I do believe you, Edward; but”--and here her voice sunk to a whisper--“you must try again, try again and again--for I think that father knows the danger, though mother does not; and I think--I hope--he will be firm enough, when you press him, and warn him of the danger, to do as you wish him.” “I am afraid not, Julia. Your mother--” “Do not fear; hope--hope all, dear Edward; for, to confess to you, I KNOW that they are anxious to have your support--they said as much. Nay, why should I hide anything from you? They sent me here to see--to speak with you, and--” “To see what your charms could do to persuade me to be a villain. Julia! Julia! did you think to do this--to have me be the thing which they would make me?” “No! no!--Heaven forbid, dear Edward, that you should fancy that any such desire had a place, even for a moment, in my mind. No! I knew not that the case involved any but mere money considerations. I knew not that--” “Enough! Say no more, Julia! I do not think that you would counsel me to my own shame.” “No! no! You do me only justice. But, Edward, you will save my father! You will try--you will see him again--” “What! to suffer again the open scorn, the declared doubts of my friendship and integrity, which is the constant language of your mother? Can it be that you would desire that I should do this--nay, seek it?” “For my poor father's sake!” she cried, gaspingly. But I shook my head sternly. “For mine, then--for mine! for mine!” She threw herself into my arms, and clung to me until I promised all that she required. And as I promised her, so I strove with her father. I used every argument, resorted to every mode of persuasion, but all was of no avail. Mr. Clifford was under the rigid, the iron government of his fate! His wife was one of those miserably silly women--born, according to Iago-- “To suckle fools and chronicle small beer”--