“I have explained fully to Mr. Stocmar, Clara,” said she, in a cold, calm tone, “that from to-morrow forward your allegiance will be transferred from _me_ to _him_; that with him will rest all authority and direction over you; that, however interested--naturally interested-- I must continue to feel in your future, _he_, and _he_ alone, must be its arbiter. I repeat this now, in his presence, that there may be no risk of a misconception.” “Am I to write to you, mamma?” asked the girl, in a voice unmoved as her own. “Yes, you will write; that is, I shall expect to hear from you in reply to my letters. This we will talk over together.” “Am I to correspond with you, sir?” said she, addressing Stocmar in the same impassive way. “Oh! by all means. I shall take it as the greatest of favors. I shall be charmed if you will honor me so far.” “I ask, sir,” continued she, “because I may chance to have companions in the place to which I am going; and, even to satisfy _their_ scruples, one ought to have some belongings.” There was not the shadow of irritation in the manner in which these words were spoken; and yet Stocmar heard them with a strange thrill of pity, and Mrs. Morris grew pale as she listened to them. “Clara,” said Mrs. Morris, gravely, “there are circumstances in our relations to each other which you will only learn when we have parted. I have committed them to writing for your own eye alone. They will explain the urgency of the step I am now taking, as much for _your_ sake as for _mine_. When you have read and carefully pondered over that paper, you will be convinced that this separation is of necessity.” Clara bowed her head in assent, but did not speak. “You will also see, Clara,” resumed she, “that it is very far from likely the old relations between us will ever again be resumed. If we do meet again,--an event that may or may not happen,--it will be as some distant cousins,--some who have ties of kindred between them, and no more.” Clara nodded again, but still in silence. “You see, sir,” said Mrs. Morris, turning towards Stocmar, while her eyes flashed angrily,--“you see, sir, that I am handing over to your care a model of obedience,--a young lady who has no will save that of those in authority over her,--not one rebellious sentiment of affection or attachment in her nature.” “And who will ever strive to preserve your good opinions, sir, by persevering in this wise course,” said Clara, with a modest courtesy. If any one could have read Mr. Stocmar's heart at that moment, he would have detected no very benevolent feelings towards either mother or daughter, while he sincerely deplored his own fate at being in such company.