"Yes: and looked hard at me while he spoke; and said more than once, significantly, 'So his name is Charles?' He talked about some attempt at imposture and litigation, but that was, evidently, merely invented to sound me about your brother--whom, of course, he spoke ill of--impressing on me three or four times that he would never have anything to say to any of the family while Philip lived." "And you told him," said the young man, hesitatingly, and with a deep blush of shame over his face, "that you were persuaded--that is, that you believed Philip was--was--" "Was dead! Yes--and without confusion. For the more I reflect, the more I think he must be dead. At all events, you may be sure that he is dead to us, that we shall never hear more of him." "Poor Philip!" "Your feelings are natural; they are worthy of your excellent heart; but remember, what would have become of you if you had stayed with him!" "True!" said the brother, with a slight shudder--"a career of suffering--crime--perhaps the gibbet! Ah! what do I owe you?" The dinner-party at Mr. Beaufort's that day was constrained and formal, though the host, in unusual good humour, sought to make himself agreeable. Mrs. Beaufort, languid and afflicted with headache, said little. The two Spencers were yet more silent. But the younger sat next to her he loved; and both hearts were full: and in the evening they contrived to creep apart into a corner by the window, through which the starry heavens looked kindly on them. They conversed in whispers, with long pauses between each: and at times Camilla's tears flowed silently down her cheeks, and were followed by the false smiles intended to cheer her lover. Time did not fly, but crept on breathlessly and heavily. And then came the last parting--formal, cold--before witnesses. But the lover could not restrain his emotion, and the hard father heard his suppressed sob as he closed the door. It will now be well to explain the cause of Mr. Beaufort's heightened spirits, and the motives of his conduct with respect to his daughter's suitor. This, perhaps, can be best done by laying before the reader the following letters that passed between Mr. Beaufort and Lord Lilburne. From LORD LILBURNE to ROBERT BEAUFORT, ESQ., M.P. "DEAR BEAUFORT,--I think I have settled, pretty satisfactorily, your affair with your unwelcome visitor. The first thing it seemed to me necessary to do, was to learn exactly what and who he was, and with what parties that could annoy you he held intercourse. I sent for Sharp, the Bow Street officer, and placed him in the hall to mark, and afterwards to dog and keep watch on your new friend. The moment the latter entered I saw at once, from his dress and his address, that he was a 'scamp;' and thought it highly inexpedient to place you in his power by any money transactions. While talking with him, Sharp sent in a billet containing his recognition of our gentleman as a transported convict.