"What! the bride of a felon!" cried Edith, her spirit rising for a moment--"of one stained with every vice and every crime--to vow falsely that I will love him whom I must ever hate--to break all my promises to one I must ever love--to deceive, prove false and forsworn to the noble and the true, and give myself to the base, the lawless, and the abhorred! Oh, my father--my father! is it possible that you can ask such a thing?" The fate of Sir Robert Croyland and his daughter hung in the balance. One harsh command, one unkind word, with justice and truth on her side, and feebleness and wrong on his, might have armed her to resist; but the old man's heart was melted. The struggle that he witnessed in his child was, for a moment--remark, only for a moment--more terrible than that within his own breast. There was something in the innocence and truth, something in the higher attributes of the passions called into action in her breast, something in the ennobling nature of the conflicting feelings of her heart--the filial tenderness, the adherence to her engagements, the abhorrence of the bad, the love of the good, the truth, the honour, and the piety, all striving one with the other, that for a time made the mean passion of fear seem small and insignificant. "I do not ask you, my child," he said--"I do not urge you--I ask, I urge you no more! The worst bitterness is past. I have told my own child the tale of my sorrows, my folly, my weakness, and my danger. I have inflicted the worst upon you, Edith, and on myself; and I leave it to your own heart to decide. After your generous, your noble offer, to sacrifice your property and leave yourself nothing, for my sake, it were cruel--it were, indeed, base, to urge you farther. To avoid this, dreadful disclosure, to shelter you and myself from such horrible details, I have often been stern, and harsh, and menacing.--Forgive me, Edith, but it is past! You now know what is on the die; and it is your own hand casts it. Your father's life, the honour of your family, the high name we have ever borne--these are to be lost and won. But I urge it not--I ask it not. You only must and can decide."