_An Apartment in the Castle._ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD _discovered on a couch, reading_, SERVANTS _attending._ _Sir Philip._ Is not my daughter yet returned? _Serv._ No, Sir Philip. _Sir Philip._ Dispatch a servant to her. [_Exit_ SERVANT. _Re-enter_ SERVANT. _Serv._ Sir, the old gardener is below, and asks to see you. _Sir Philip._ [_Rises and throws away the book._] Admit him instantly, and leave me.-- [_Exit_ SERVANT. _Enter_ EVERGREEN, _who bows, then looking at_ SIR PHILIP, _clasps his hands together, and weeps._ Does this desolation affect the old man?--Come near me--Time has laid a lenient hand on thee. _Everg._ Oh, my dear master! can twenty years have wrought the change I see? _Sir Philip._ No; [_Striking his breast._] 'tis the canker here that hath withered up my trunk;--but are we secure from observation? _Everg._ Yes. _Sir Philip._ Then tell me, does the boy live? _Everg._ He does, and is as fine a youth-- _Sir Philip._ No comments. _Everg._ We named him-- _Sir Philip._ Be dumb! let me not hear his name. Has care been taken he may not blast me with his presence? _Everg._ It has, and he cheerfully complied. _Sir Philip._ Enough! never speak of him more. Have you removed every dreadful vestige from the fatal chamber? [EVERGREEN _hesitates._]--O speak! _Everg._ My dear master! I confess my want of duty. Alas! I had not courage to go there. _Sir Philip._ Ah! _Everg._ Nay, forgive me! wiser than I have felt such terrors.--The apartments have been carefully locked up; the keys not a moment from my possession:--here they are. _Sir Philip._ Then the task remains with me. Dreadful thought! I can well pardon thy fears, old man.--O! could I wipe from my memory that hour, when-- _Everg._ Hush! your daughter. _Sir Philip._ Leave me--we'll speak anon. [_Exit_ EVERGREEN. _Enter_ MISS BLANDFORD. _Miss B._ Dear father! I came the moment I heard you wished to see me. _Sir Philip._ My good child, thou art the sole support that props my feeble life. I fear my wish for thy company deprives thee of much pleasure. _Miss B._ Oh no! what pleasure can be equal to that of giving you happiness? Am I not rewarded in seeing your eyes beam with pleasure on me? _Sir Philip._ 'Tis the pale reflection of the lustre I see sparkling there.--But, tell me, did your lover gain the prize? _Miss B._ Yes, papa. _Sir Philip._ Few men of his rank-- _Miss B._ Oh! you mean Mr. Handy? _Sir Philip._ Yes. _Miss B._ No; he did not. _Sir Philip._ Then, whom did _you_ mean? _Miss B._ Did you say lover? I--I mistook.--No--a young man called Henry obtained the prize. _Sir Philip._ And how did Mr. Handy succeed? _Miss B._ Oh! It was so ridiculous!--I will tell you, papa, what happened to him. _Sir Philip._ To Mr. Handy?