"No; I think not. I believe the father is my friend, though I own sometimes it appears strange to me, Marianne, that he should seem to prefer my interest to that of every one else, when so many ties bind him to Sir Ambrose's family, and so few to me: nay, though I am often peevish and unreasonable with him, he never is offended, and appears to remain still as warmly attached to me as before:--I cannot account for it." "He has ties that bind him to you that you know not of," said Marianne, in a low, under voice; "he was your father's friend." "Was he?" cried Rosabella, eagerly; "then perhaps he may enable me to clear off the shade that has so long hung upon my father's name. By heaven! neither the gratification of my love nor of my revenge would give me half the pleasure." "You had better not ask him," said Marianne, in the same low, mysterious tone; "you can learn nothing upon that subject which it would give you pleasure to hear." Then changing her voice, she added, "But what said Edric to the news of his brother's glory?" "I know not--I care not! Ice itself cannot be colder than Edric. When we met, and he offered his hand to greet me, his touch seemed to freeze my very veins. Cold, prudent, calculating, and cautious, he has all the vices of age without its excuses:--I hate him!" "You do not then, I suppose, long for the moment when you are to become his bride?" asked the companion, with a sarcastic smile. "Long for it, Marianne?" cried Rosabella, starting from her couch, and clasping her hands together with energy--"long for it! No; if all other resources fail, death shall free me before the hated moment arrives." And as she spoke, Rosabella walked up and down the room, in a state of violent agitation. "But your uncle?" resumed Marianne. "My uncle!" repeated Rosabella, stopping short, "yes, yes; my uncle is positive--and I--a poor dependant, and in his power. But even that shall not control my will. Poor and dependant as I am--I am free; and sooner would I labour for my bread, sooner would I perish in the streets, or endure unheard of torments, than live in a palace surrounded by crowds of adoring slaves, if the price were that I must call Edric husband." Marianne, satisfied with the ease with which she found she could play upon the feelings of her mistress, now touched a chord that thrilled to softer emotions. "I can never believe," said she, "that a mind so noble as that of Edmund, can long remain in the thraldom of Elvira. When he comes to know her better, and to feel the feebleness of her soul, he must despise her." "Ah! do you think so?" cried Rosabella eagerly. "But you deceive yourself, Marianne; Edmund is so blinded that he fancies her very faults perfections." "But that blindness cannot last for ever, and when it wears off, disgust must ensue."