'Both! both!' answered Godolphin, sobbing, and seating himself by her. He threw his arms round her, and her pale cheek rested on his bosom, while her eyes were fixed on his face. 'Stay!' exclaimed she, after a momentary pause, and disengaging herself suddenly from him--'Stay! I have yet another question, if I dared ask it! Do you know all? and have you no blood to answer for, on my account? Will you assure me you will not seek it?' 'For mercy's sake!' said Mrs. Stafford, 'satisfy her, Mr. Godolphin--satisfy her at once--you see to what is owing this alienation of her reason.' 'No,' reassumed the afflicted Adelina, 'you need not answer me; I see you cannot--will not forgive----' 'Name him not, Adelina!' sternly and quickly answered he--'my soul recoils at his idea! I cannot, I will not promise any thing!' At this period, Emmeline, who was unwilling to trust the servants in such a moment, entered with the infant of Lady Adelina sleeping in her arms. 'See,' said Mrs. Stafford, 'a little unfortunate creature, whose innocence must surely plead forcibly to you: he comes to join our intreaties to you to spare his mother!' Emmeline laid the infant in the lap of Lady Adelina, who was yet unable to shed a tear. Godolphin beheld it with mingled horror and pity; but the latter sentiment seemed to predominate; and Emmeline, whose voice was calculated to go to the heart, began to try it's influence; and imploring him to be calm, and to promise his sister an eternal oblivion of the past, she urged every argument that should convince him of it's necessity, and every motive that could affect his reason or his compassion. He gazed on her with reverence and admiration while she spoke, and seemed greatly affected by what she said. Animated by the hope of success, her eyes were lightened up with new brilliancy, and her glowing cheeks and expressive features became more than ever attractive. A convulsive laugh from Lady Adelina interrupted her, and drew the attention of Godolphin entirely to his sister. Emmeline, who saw her reason again forsaking her, took the sleeping baby from her lap. She had hardly done so, before, trying to rise from her chair, she shrieked aloud--for again the image of Fitz-Edward, dying by the hand of her brother, was before her. 'See!' cried she, 'see! there he lies!--he is already expiring! yet William forgives him not! What? would you strike him again? now! while he is dying?--Go! cruel, cruel brother!' attempting to put Godolphin from her--'Go!--Oh! touch me not with those polluted hands, they are stained with human blood!' A convulsive shudder and a deep sigh seemed to exhaust all her remaining strength, and she fell back in her chair, pale and faint; and with fixed, unmeaning eyes, appeared no longer conscious even of the terrors which pursued her.