Perhaps some may smile at this record. I have no doubt they will, and pronounce the character of Ernest unnatural and _impossible_. But in all his idiosyncrasy, he is the Ernest Linwood of Grandison Place, just such as I have delineated him, just such as I knew and loved. I know that there are scenes that have seemed, that will seem, overwrought, and I have often been tempted to throw down the pen, regretting the task I have undertaken. But, were we permitted to steal behind the scenes of many a life drama, what startling discoveries would we make! Reality goes beyond the wildest imaginings of romance,--beyond the majestic sweep of human genius. Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor imagination conceived, the wild extent to which the passions of man may go. The empire of passion is veiled, and its battle ground is secret Who beheld the interview in the library, which I have just described? Who saw him kneeling at his mother's feet at the midnight hour? Or who witnessed our scenes of agony and reconciliation in the palace walls of our winter home? Ah! the world sees only the surface of the great deep of the heart. It has never plunged into the innermost main,--never beheld the seething and the rolling of the unfathomable mystery:-- "And where is the diver so stout to go,-- I ask ye again--to the deep below?" Well do I remember the thrilling legend of the roaring whirlpools, the golden goblet, and the dauntless diver, and well do I read its meaning. O Ernest! I have cast the golden goblet of happiness into a maelstrom, and he alone, who walked unsinking the waves of Galilee, can bring back the lost treasure from the dark and boiling vortex. CHAPTER XLIX. Julian was worthy of Edith. His parentage was honorable and pure, his connections irreproachable, and his own character noble and unblemished. Reason could oppose no obstacle, and the young artist was received into the family as the betrothed of the lovely lame girl. The romantic idea which had suggested itself to my mind, that he might be the son of Theresa and my own half-brother, had vanished before the testimonies of his birth. Another daydream too. I had always looked forward to the hour when Richard would transfer his affections to Edith, and be rewarded by her love for his youthful disappointment. But she was destined to reign in undivided sovereignty over a heart that had never been devoted to another; to be loved with all the fervor of passion and all the enthusiasm of genius.