'It is no secret,' replied Cadurcis; 'would that it were!'
'Would that it were! How strange you speak, how strange you look, Plantagenet! If it be no secret that I have a father, why this concealment then? I know that I am not the child of shame!' she added, after a moment's pause, with an air of pride. A tear stole down the cheek of Cadurcis.
'Plantagenet! dear, good Plantagenet! my brother! my own brother! see, I kneel to you; Venetia kneels to you! your own Venetia! Venetia that you love! Oh! if you knew the load that is on my spirit bearing me down to a grave which I would almost welcome, you would speak to me; you would tell me all. I have sighed for this; I have longed for this; I have prayed for this. To meet some one who would speak to me of my father; who had heard of him, who knew him; has been for years the only thought of my being, the only object for which I existed. And now, here comes Plantagenet, my brother! my own brother! and he knows all, and he will tell me; yes, that he will; he will tell his Venetia all, all!'
'Is there not your mother?' said Lord Cadurcis, in a broken tone.
'Forbidden, utterly forbidden. If I speak, they tell me her heart will break; and therefore mine is breaking.'
'Have you no friend?'
'Are not you my friend?'
'Doctor Masham?'
'I have applied to him; he tells me that he lives, and then he shakes his head.'
'You never saw your father; think not of him.'