Her ladyship's tears again flowed copiously.
"I will go, instantly, to Ripley," said Sir John, seriously, but calmly. "Chrystal, my love, be ready to accompany me in ten minutes."
"I shall want Bell to talk to, my love—don't take that great girl with you, every where."
"I particularly wish to point out to my daughter's notice the misery and crime of connecting herself with a man whose only virtue is the possession of riches, Gertrude. Make haste, Chrystal; the carriage will be round in ten minutes."
Christobelle flew to her room, and prepared to accompany her father. When she returned to the study, it was empty. Lady Wetheral had returned to her apartments, and Thompson was no longer there to receive and assist her. Christobelle was on the point of ascending the stairs, to make known her flight, but the carriage was already at the door, and her father called for her. She entered the carriage as her mother's bell rang furiously, but time was too precious for delay; the order was given, and they proceeded towards Ripley with rapidity.
CHAPTER XV.
Sir John Wetheral spoke very seriously to his daughter during their rapid transit: he pointed out the crime of sacrificing principle and content upon earth, to bow to idols which tempted the worst passions of human nature, and gave the soul to mammon. He laid before her notice the fate of those who forgot their Maker's injunction, to care for their soul, and not for the body; and who strove for earthly things, without considering they could not carry them to that place, where the innocent and upright spirit alone could be triumphant.
Christobelle listened to her father's mild admonitions in silent, pleased attention, and her heart drank in the holiness of the subject, and the justice of his remarks; but when he changed his tone and subject, to charge himself with negligence, in allowing his lady's influence to prevail over his better reason—when he took blame to himself for allowing the marriage of Julia, so contrary to his own wishes, to a man so little calculated to make her happy, and prophecied, in melancholy accents, that his grey hair would be brought in sorrow to the grave, by his own unpardonable indolence, and blind affection—then she wept to hear him, and pressed his hands to her heart.