She had now time to consider that her own fears and emotion were involving her in unnecessary confessions; she resolved, therefore, to repress the fulness of her heart, and to acknowledge only the accusation of Miss Margland. And in a few minutes, without waiting for further enquiry, she gathered courage to open upon the subject; and with as much ease and quietness as she could command, related, in general terms, the charge brought against her, and her consequent desire to quit Cleves, 'till,----till----' Here she stopt for breath. Mr. Tyrold instantly finished the sentence, 'till the marriage has taken place?' She coloured, and faintly uttered, 'Yes.' 'You are right, my child,' said he, 'and you have acted with a prudence which does you honour. Neither the ablest reasoning, nor the most upright conduct, can so completely obliterate a surmise of this nature, from a suspicious mind, as absence. You shall remain, therefore, with me, till your cousin is settled in her new habitation. Do you know if the day is fixed?' 'No, sir,' she answered, while the roses fled her cheeks at a question which implied so firm a belief of the union. 'Do not suffer this affair to occasion you any further uneasiness,' he continued; 'it is the inherent and unalienable compact of Innocence with Truth, to hold themselves immovably superior to the calumny of false imputations. But I will go myself to Cleves, and set this whole matter right.' 'And will you, too, sir, have the goodness--' She was going to say, _to make my peace with Edgar_; but the fear of misinterpretation checked her, and she turned away. He gently enquired what she meant; she avoided any explanation, and he resumed his writing. Ah me! thought she, will the time ever come, when with openness, with propriety, I may clear myself of caprice to Edgar? Less patient, because more alarmed than her husband, Mrs. Tyrold followed her to the window. She saw a tear in her eye, and again she took both her hands: 'Have you, my Camilla,' she cried, 'have you told us all? Can unjust impertinence so greatly have disturbed you? Is there no sting belonging to this wound that you are covering from our sight, though it may precisely be the spot that calls most for some healing balm?' Again the cheeks of Camilla received their fugitive roses. 'My dearest mother,' she cried, 'is not this enough?--to be accused--suspected--and to fear--' She stammered, and would have withdrawn her hands; but Mrs. Tyrold, still holding them, said, 'To fear what? speak out, my best child! open to us your whole heart!--Where else will you find repositories so tender?' Tears again flowed down the burning cheeks of Camilla, and dropping her eyes, 'Ah, my mother!' she cried, 'you will think me so frivolous--you will blush so for your daughter--if I own--if I dare confess--'