For two young people to have lived from infancy together without having ascertained that they were not related to each other by even the remotest tie of consanguinity, would be ridiculous to suppose, and was not the fact, though Mr. and Mrs. Hartland had been silent, and ordered their household to abstain from any communication which might destroy the illusion of brother and sister, which, if established into habitual belief, might never be questioned, and prevent the growth of those sentiments which the anxious parents at _last_ dreaded to anticipate. Blinded by her wishes, as well as natural presumption, Mrs. Hartland had long refused to open her eyes to the possible consequences of her imprudent conduct, in domesticating her only son with the most attractive of her sex, unless she desired a union between them. She saw nothing but the accomplishment of her own views in _any_ arrangement; and even after the warning voice of Mr. Playfair had put her on her guard, thought it only necessary to employ an increased reserve upon the topic of Zoé's origin, to secure against an unfortunate result, and continue to Algernon the happiness of companionship, without endangering his future repose. "Should a time ever arrive," said the coarse-grained Mrs. Hartland, "when it may become requisite to take stronger measures, it is only necessary to tell Algernon the truth. _My_ son will never disgrace himself by alliance with a gipsey. We can remove Zoé at any time, as I say, Mr. Playfair. I appeal to _you_, rather than Mr. Hartland, on this point, because he is absurdly fond of the girl, and I often tell him that I am certain he loves that _enfant trouvé_ better than his own flesh and blood." "If he did not love his ward," replied Mr. Playfair, "he would be less than human. Every body loves her, and when she is called hence amongst her kindred of the skies, the angels will greet her, not as a stranger, but beloved companion, who had been detached from the heavenly ranks for a season, to teach earth better things than mortals could have learned without her. Madam, you know my opinion; I have often told you that the young people are bound in cords of affection for each other, which it will be a heart-break to dissever. Your son may not suffer much; the world lies before him; he will soon go to the University, and find new friends as well as amusements; but not so the gentle, the tender Zorilda, of whose happiness you seem to make small account. May I ask what are your intentions respecting her? She is already a woman in growth, and her acquirements would do honour to any age; believe me, the danger increases daily, and an indissoluble engagement may bind your son in chains, which having forged yourself, you could not desire him to break; you would not have him act dishonourably, and sully his name for ever in the eyes of virtue and delicacy."