“Oh! shall I ever be able to raise myself to eminence?” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together, as if in earnest appeal to heaven: “may I hope ever to make for myself a name which the whole world shall pronounce with respect and admiration? But first--first,” he continued, still speaking aloud and in an excited tone,--“I must satisfy this ardent curiosity which has seized upon me! Wherefore all these dreadful mysteries?--wherefore do not my parents acknowledge me as their son, if I be really legitimate?--why am I still to pass as their nephew? Are they ashamed of me?--have I ever done aught to bring disgrace upon their name? No--no: and they gave me that name--their own name of Hatfield, and of their own accord! But who was the good woman, Sarah Watts, that I used to call by the title of _mother_?--why was I entrusted in my infancy to her care?--for what motive was it that my parents never took charge of me until I was upwards of ten years of age?--and who was that kind and generous Mr. Rainford that I loved so much, and whom I have not now heard of for many long--long years? Oh! I must find the solutions of all these mysteries--the answers to all these questions! Yes:--whatever be the result,--whatever be the consequences, I must tear away the veil which conceals so much of _the past_ from my view!” Charles Hatfield rose from his chair as he pronounced these last words with strong emphasis; and, beginning to pace the room in an agitated manner, he was repeating his impassioned determination to clear up all that was at present obscure and dark, when a remorse struck to his soul--producing a sensation that made him reel and stagger! For had not he said to Lady Georgiana but a few hours previously--“_I now know that you art my mother--and I care to know nothing more! Never--never shall I question you concerning the past: the enjoyment of the present, and the hope which gilds the future--these are enough for me!_” And had not he said to his sire--“_By what right do I dare to question the conduct of parents who have ever treated me to kindly? No--my dear father--I seek not any explanation at your hands--I am content to obey your wishes in all things._” Charles Hatfield was a young man of fine principles and noble feelings; and the solemn nature of those assurances, striking with suddenness and force upon his mind, filled him with bitter regret that he should have ever thought of violating such sacred pledges.