"Rise, daughter," said Lindsay, almost lifting her up, "I do not chide you for your repugnance to Tyrrel. You mistake me if you think I would dictate to your affections: my grief has a deeper source. This Arthur Butler"-- "Spare that name, father?" interrupted Mildred, retiring to a seat near the window and covering her face with her hands. "Curse him!" exclaimed Lindsay. "May all the plagues that torment the human bosom fall upon him! Mark me, daughter, I trust I am not an unreasonable father; I know I am not an unkind one; there are few requests that you could make which I would not freely grant. But to hear with patience the name of that man on your lips, to think of him as allied to you by any sympathy, as sharing any portion of your esteem--him, a rebel traitor who has raised his sacrilegious hand against his king, who has sold his name to infamy, who has contributed to fill these peaceful provinces with discord, and to subvert the happiness of this land, which heaven had appointed to be an asylum where man, disgusted with the lusts, rapine, and murder of his fellow, might betake himself as a child to the bosom of his parent--I cannot endure the thought of him! Never again, Mildred, I charge you, never allude to him again!" "If I could but tell you all!" interrupted Mildred, sobbing, "if I could but patiently have your hearing." "Never a word of him! as you desire to preserve my affection, I will not hear. Get to your chamber," said Lindsay, almost sternly. "Get to your chamber, this perverse and resolute temper of thine, needs the restraint of solitude." Mildred rose from her chair and moved towards the door, and as she was about to depart she turned her weeping countenance towards her father. "Come hither," he said, "thou art a foolish girl, and would bring down wretchedness and woe upon thee. God forgive you, from the bottom of my heart, I forgive you. This thing is not of your own imagining: some malignant spirit has spread his baleful wing above our house. Go, child, forget what has been said, and believe that your father buffets thus harshly with fate for your own welfare. Kiss me, and may heaven shield you against this impending ill!" "Dear father, hear me," said Mildred, as Lindsay imprinted a kiss upon her forehead. "Away, away!" interrupted Lindsay, "I would be temperate nor again forget myself. In all love, Mildred, away." Mildred left the room, and Lindsay, to restore the equanimity of his temper, which had been so much overthrown by this interview, wandered forth into the valley, whence it was some hours before he returned. It was not long after the termination of this conference before Henry rode up to the door. The clatter of his horse's hoofs brought Mildred from her chamber into the parlor. "What! sister, your eyes red with tears?" said Henry. "Who has distressed you?" "Ah, brother, I have had a weary time in your absence. Our poor father is sadly displeased with me."