'And is that the time, Camilla, to speak to your best friends? would it not be more judicious to be explicit with them, while what affects you is still depending?' Camilla, hiding her face on her mother's bosom, burst afresh into tears. 'Alas!' cried Mrs. Tyrold, 'what new evil is hovering? If it must invade me again through one of my children, tell me, at least, Camilla, it is not wilfully that you, too, afflict me? and afflict the best of fathers?' Mr. Tyrold, dropping his pen, looked at them both with the most apprehensive anxiety. 'No, my dearest mother,' said Camilla, endeavouring to meet her eyes; 'not wilfully,--but something has happened--I can hardly myself tell how or what--but indeed Cleves, now--' she hesitated. 'How is my brother?' demanded Mr. Tyrold. 'O! all that is good and kind! and I grieve to quit him--but, indeed, Cleves, now--' Again she hesitated. 'Ah, my dear child!' said Mrs. Tyrold, 'I always feared that residence!--you are too young, too inconsiderate, too innocent, indeed, to be left so utterly to yourself.--Forgive me, my dear Mr. Tyrold; I do not mean to reflect upon your brother, but he is not _you_!--and with you alone, this dear inexperienced girl can be secure from all harm. Tell me, however, what it is--?' Camilla, in the extremest confusion changed colour, but tried vainly to speak. Mr. Tyrold, suspended from all employment, waited fearfully some explanation. 'We have no time,' said Mrs. Tyrold, 'for delay;--you know I am going abroad,--and cannot ascertain my return; though all my heart left behind me, with my children and their father, will urge every acceleration in my power.' Camilla wept again, fondly folding her arms round her mother; 'I had hoped,' she cried, 'that I should have come home to peace, comfort, tranquillity! to both of you, my dearest father and mother, and to all my unbroken happiness under your roof!--How little did I dream of so cruel a separation!' 'Console yourself, my Camilla, that you have not been its cause; may Heaven ever spare me evil in your shape at least!--you say it is nothing wilful? I can bear everything else.' 'We will not,' said Mr. Tyrold, 'press her; she will tell us all in her own way, and at her own time. Forced confidence is neither fair nor flattering. I will excuse her return to my brother, and she will the sooner be able to give her account for finding herself not hurried.' 'Calm yourself, then,' said Mrs. Tyrold, 'as your indulgent father permits, and I will proceed with my preparations.' Camilla now, somewhat recovering, declared she had almost nothing to say; but her mother continued packing up, and her father went on with his letter.