Mrs.Merton had no idea of the pain inflicted by _treading upon a feeling_.

Maltravers was touched, and Mrs.Merton went on.

"No wonder he was kind to you, Evelyn,--a brute would be that; but he was generally considered a stern man." "I never saw a stern look, I never heard a harsh word; nay, I do not remember that he ever even used the word 'command,'" said Evelyn, almost angrily.
Mrs.Merton was about to reply, when suddenly seeing a lady whose little girl had been ill of the measles, her motherly thoughts flowed into a new channel, and she fluttered away in that sympathy which unites all the heads of a growing family.

Evelyn and Maltravers were left alone.
"You do not remember your father, I believe ?" said Maltravers.
"No father but Lord Vargrave; while he lived, I never knew the loss of one." "Does your mother resemble you ?" "Ah, I wish I could think so; it is the sweetest countenance!" "Have you no picture of her ?" "None; she would never consent to sit." "Your father was a Cameron; I have known some of that name." "No relation of ours: my mother says we have none living." "And have we no chance of seeing Lady Vargrave in B-----shire ?" "She never leaves home; but I hope to return soon to Brook-Green." Maltravers sighed, and the conversation took a new turn.
"I have to thank you for the books you so kindly sent; I ought to have returned them ere this," said Evelyn.
"I have no use for them.

Poetry has lost its charm for me,--especially that species of poetry which unites with the method and symmetry something of the coldness of Art.