“The stern and cold tone of authority in which her father’s letter was written, gave her but little hope that in her father she would find a friend. Then the feeble and yet imperious mediocrity of her mother--the selfish and arrogant temper of Fernan--the powerful influence and incessant documentising of Fra Jose, whose good-nature was no match for his love of authority--the daily domestic persecution--that vinegar that would wear out any rock--the being compelled to listen day after day to the same exhausting repetition of exhortation, chiding, reproach, and menace, or seek refuge in her chamber, to waste the weary hours in loneliness and tears--this strife maintained by one strong indeed in purpose, but feeble in power, against so many all sworn to work their will, and have their way--this perpetual conflict with evils so trivial in the items, but so heavy in the amount, to those who have the debt to pay daily and hourly,--was too much for the resolution of Isidora, and she wept in hopeless despondency, as she felt that already her courage shrunk from the encounter, and knew not what concessions might be extorted from her increasing inability of resistance. “Oh!” she cried, clasping her hands in the extremity of her distress, “Oh that he were but here to direct, to counsel me!--that he were here even no longer as my lover, but only as my adviser!” “It is said that a certain power is always at hand to facilitate the wishes that the individual forms for his own injury; and so it should seem in the present instance,--for she had scarce uttered these words, when the shadow of Melmoth was seen darkening the garden walk,--and the next moment he was beneath the casement. As she saw him approach, she uttered a cry of mingled joy and fear, which he hushed by making a signal of silence with his hand, and then whispered, “I know it all!” “Isidora was silent. She had nothing but her recent distress to communicate,--and of that, it appeared, he was already apprized. She waited, therefore, in mute anxiety for some words of counsel or of comfort. “I know all!” continued Melmoth; “your father has landed in Spain--he brings with him your destined husband. The fixed purpose of your whole family, as obstinate as they are weak, it will be bootless in you to resist; and this day fortnight will see you the bride of Montilla.”--“I will first be the bride of the grave,” said Isidora, with perfect and fearful calmness.