Mr.Grahame shrunk in misery from encountering the glance even of his friends; he felt as if he too shared the disgrace of his son, he and his young, his beautiful Lilla; she whom he had anticipated, with so much pleasure, introducing among his friends, she was doomed to share with him the solitude, which he declared was the only fit abode of ignominy; and even to her his manner was wayward and uncertain--at times almost painfully fond, at others equally stern and harsh.

Lilla's character was changed; she struggled to bear with him, unrepiningly, dutifully, conscious that the eye of her God was upon her, however her father might appear insensible to her affection.
Even the society of Mr.Howard and Mr.Hamilton was irksome; their efforts to rouse and cheer him were unavailing, and they could only hope time would achieve that for which friendship was inadequate.
Herbert's engagement with Mary Greville still remained untold, but he looked forward to discovering his long-treasured secret, when he beheld himself indeed an ordained minister of God; Percy perhaps was in his confidence, but neither his sisters nor Ellen.

Mary's letters were full of comfort to him; such pure and beautiful affection breathed in every line, that even the sadness which the few last unconsciously betrayed did not alarm him.

He accounted for it by her reluctance to quit her beautiful retreat in the Swiss mountains for the confusion and heat of Paris, where she now resided.

A few months previously they had been visited in their retreat by her father; scarcely more surprised were they at his appearance than at his manner, which was kinder and more indulgent than Mary had ever remembered it.