"Do not say so, papa—do not die, or what will become of me?"
He smiled at her energy.
"I am not going before my appointed time," he said, putting one arm round her waist. "I shall not leave you, Chrystal, unprotected, whenever that time may arrive, for your mind is stored with those precepts which can mitigate the evils of this world. You have a parent, my child, who is not a fallible father, such as I am, and to Him I commit you, and did commit you from your birth. You were given up exclusively to me, with your poor mother's consent—indeed, by her expressed wish—and I have endeavoured to lead your mind to those truths which must advance your happiness. I have led you, Chrystal, to the fountain of living waters, and from that fountain you will drink the cup of tribulation, but it will be sweetened by the knowledge that it came from His hands—that all trials are sent to the good, to see if their faith is sincere, and their patience an abiding trust in Him who gives and takes away. If, Chrystal, your earthly father is taken away, and your home broken up, remember that Father above, and remember that house made without hands, promised to all who walk steadily and faithfully to the end."
Christobelle's heart was wrung with the seriousness of her father's words, and the peculiar tone in which they were uttered: it seemed that he was preparing to leave for ever the home, and the study, which had sheltered her youth from every storm, and had been the scene of their daily and long communion together. If her father was no more, who besides Isabel would cherish his companion, and love her as he had done? Who would save her from her mother's irony, and soothe her increasing irritability towards her? Christobelle became wild with the idea of his early death, and, clasping her hands, cried, "Oh! dearest papa, don't talk so—don't frighten me, and promise not to leave me."
"Nay, Chrystal," he replied, soothingly, "do not alarm yourself; I am here in present health; and I trust, for some years to come, to be allowed to watch over you. I speak seriously, because my words will be remembered by you hereafter, when I may not be near to give counsel; and I think seriously, because Clara's unhappy marriage may affect her conduct and character: she is too young to escape the contamination of passing her life with Sir Foster Kerrison."
Sir John became agitated as they turned into Ripley Park, and drew near the house which held his unfortunate daughter: he wished to gain firmness with gentleness for the approaching interview, and he muttered several times, quickly, "I hope I shall not forget myself!—God help me, I hope I shall not forget myself!" He was agitated even to nervousness, when they drove past the conservatory, and the bells pealed their arrival; but Christobelle was then too young and inexperienced to be useful, or even to understand the depth of a parent's agony. She followed him in silence to the hall and into the sitting-room, where Clara lay extended upon a chaise-longue, with a bandage round one arm, and a severe bruise upon her eye. She rose, upon their entrance, with self-possession, and, apparently, with utter oblivion regarding the past, for her eyes flashed with angry feelings, and she spoke only of the present moment, and of her own distress.
"You are come to witness a pretty scene at Ripley, papa, and to congratulate Sir Foster, of course, upon being the greatest brute in Shropshire. Pray see if 'brute' is not legibly stamped upon my arm, and written upon my left eye. Look at this, papa."
Clara drew the bandage from her arm, and a dreadful sight presented itself: her anger rose as she gazed upon it.
"If my absence should give one qualm to that brute, I would never see his face again; but I will plague his heart out!"
Her father was greatly shocked: he was offended and disturbed by the exhibition of Clara's temper, but he detested the cowardly violence of a man who could strike a helpless wife, even through extent of provocation: his first movement was to insist upon her return home. "Return with me to Wetheral, Clara, instantly; I will not see you treated like a slave, or bear that my daughter should be struck down like a dog, by a coward! Clara, return to your home, and I will tell Sir Foster he shall reach you again through my heart."