"Father, you do me wrong; oh, do not speak such cruel words," said Lilla, springing from her seat, and flinging herself on her knees by her father's side. "Have I indeed so failed in testimonies of love, that you can for one instant believe it is only the duty of a child I feel and practise? Oh, my father, do me not such harsh injustice; could you read my inmost heart, you would see how full it is of love and reverence for you, though I have not always courage to express it. Ask of me any, every proof but this, and I will do it, but, oh, do not command me to wed Mr. Clapperton; why, oh, why would you thus seek to send me from you?" "I speak but for your happiness, Lilla;" his voice was somewhat softened. "You cannot be happy now with one so harsh, irritable, cruel as, I know, I am too often." "And would you compare the occasional irritation proceeding from the failing health of a beloved father, with the fierce passion and constant impatience of a husband, with whom I could not have one idea in common, whom I could neither love nor reverence, to whom even my duty would be wretchedness? oh, my father, can you compare the two? Think of Mrs. Greville: Philip Clapperton ever reminds me of Mr. Greville, of what at least he must have been in his youth, and would you sentence me to all the misery that has been poor Mrs. Greville's lot and her children's likewise?" "You do not know enough of Clapperton to judge him thus harshly, Lilla; I know him better, and I cannot see the faults against which you are so inveterate. Your sister chose a husband for herself, and how has she fared? is she happy?" "Annie cannot be happy, father, even if her husband were of a very different character. She disobeyed; a parent's blessing hallowed not her nuptials, and strange indeed would it be were her lot otherwise; but though I cannot love the husband of your choice, you may trust me, father, without your consent and blessing, I will never marry." "Do not say you _cannot_ love Philip Clapperton, Lilla; when once his wife, you could not fail to do so. I would see you united to one who loves you, my child, ere your affections are bestowed on another, who may be less willing to return them." Grahame spoke in a tone of such unwonted softness, that the tears now rolled unchecked down Lilla's cheeks. Her ingenuous nature could not be restrained; she felt as if, were she still silent, she would be deceiving him, and hiding her face in her hand, she almost inaudibly said-- "For that, then, it is too late, father; I cannot love Mr. Clapperton, because--because I love another." "Ha!" exclaimed Grahame, starting, then laying his trembling hand on Lilla's head, he continued, struggling with strong emotion, "this, then, is the cause of your determined refusal. Poor child, poor child, what misery have you formed for yourself!"