Her childhood, her early youth rushed like a torrent on her mind; faulty as they had been, they were innocent and pure compared with her present self.

Then she had been ever actuated by truth, candour, respectful love, affectionate confidence towards her parents; now all had been cast aside.

If her mother's words were true, and bitterly she felt they were, that her conduct to St.Eval had been one continued falsehood, what would her parents feel when her intercourse with Lord Alphingham was discovered.
Lord Alphingham--she shuddered as his name rose to her lips.

Her heart yearned with passionate intensity towards her mother, to hear her voice in blessing, to see her beaming smile, and feel her kiss of approbation, such as at Oakwood she had so often received: she longed in utter wretchedness for them.

That night she was wilfully to cast them off for ever, flee as a criminal from all she loved; and if she could return home, confess all, would that confiding love ever be hers again?
She shrunk in trembling terror from her father's sternness, her mother's look of woe, struggling with severity, the coldness, the displeasure she would excite--on all sides she beheld but misery; but to fly with Lord Alphingham, to bind herself for ever with one, whom every passing hour told her she did not, could not love--oh, all, all, even death itself, were preferable to that! The words of her brother sounded incessantly in her ears: "If you value my sister's future peace, let her be withdrawn from his society." How did she know that those words were wholly without foundation?
the countenance of the Viscount as he had alluded to them confirmed them to her now awakened eye.