Count Gondimar, now coming towards Calantha, enquired after Zerbellini. At the request of every one present, he was sent for. Calantha saw a visible change in Lady Margaret’s countenance, as he entered the room. “He is the living images”—she murmured, in a low hollow tone—“Of whom?” said Calantha eagerly.—She seemed agitated and retired. Gondimar in the evening, took Calantha apart, and said these extraordinary words to her, “Zerbellini is Lady Margaret and Lord Dartford’s son: treat him according to his birth; but remember, she would see him a slave sooner than betray herself: she abhors, yet loves him. Mark her; but never disclose the secret with which I entrust you.” Astonished, confounded, Calantha now looked upon the boy with different eyes. Immediately his resemblance to the family of Delaval struck her—his likeness to herself—his manner so superior to that of a child in his situation. The long concealed truth, at once flashed upon her. A thousand times she was tempted to speak upon the subject. She had not promised to conceal it from Lord Avondale: she was in the habit of telling him every thing: however she was now for the first time silent, and there is no more fatal symptom than when an open communicative disposition grows reserved. END OF VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED BY SCHULZE AND DEAN, 13, POLAND STREET.