“And was that dream a reflex of any thoughts which occupy you when awake?” asked his father, in a kind and anxious tone. Charles surveyed his parent with astonishment, and then became absolutely crimson in the face;--for this early and unusual visit seemed to imply that its object was in some way connected with matters that had lately been occupying, as the reader knows, no inconsiderable share of the young man’s reflections--we mean, the family secrets into which he had so strangely penetrated. “Yes, Charles,” continued Mr. Hatfield; “I feared that you had something upon your mind; and your manner now confirms that apprehension. For the last week you have not been the same gay, happy, lively being you so lately were;--and, although you have endeavoured to conceal your sorrow from observation, yet it has not escaped the eyes of your affectionate mother and myself. Tell me, Charles--tell me candidly, I implore you--is it in consequence of the discovery that we are your parents, and not mere relatives----” “Oh! my dear father,” exclaimed the young man, “that discovery made me happy, I solemnly assure you!” “Then wherefore are you melancholy and thoughtful at times?” asked Mr. Hatfield, in a tone of deep interest. “Melancholy and thoughtful!” repeated Charles, mechanically. “Yes, my dear son: and even at this moment----” “Even at this moment,” still repeated Charles, whose imagination was wandering to Suffolk Street, the influence of his dream having been to fill his soul with a more profound terror than he had ever before experienced from the worst of sleep’s delusions. “Yes--even at this moment you are abstracted--your ideas are unsettled--and there is a wildness in your looks which terrifies me!” cried Mr. Hatfield, speaking with strong emphasis and in an earnest manner. “Charles! again I implore you to tell me the cause of this change which has so lately come over you!” “Dear father, why will you press me on the subject?” cried the young man, now brought to himself, yet knowing not how to reply. “Oh! believe me--believe me, it will be better for us both that you do not persist in questioning me!” “On the contrary, Charles,” returned Mr. Hatfield, speaking more seriously and firmly than before, “it will be far more satisfactory to me--yes, and to your mother also--to be made the depositors of your secret cares. You have assured me that you are not unhappy on account of the discovery made on the day when the Prince of Montoni was received at Court; and therefore I must conjecture the existence of some other cause of grief. Charles, my dear boy,” added his father, gazing steadfastly upon him, “you love Lady Frances--and you are fearful of avowing your passion?”