restraint upon his mother. For the first time in her life she avoided all his attempts at obtaining an hour's quiet conversation. She kept herself almost entirely to her own apartments; and when she made her appearance at table, it was with a worn and haggard countenance, and a frame that her son could see wasting before his very eyes. All Lord Norbourne's efforts to draw her into conversation were vain: she would start and turn pale if he suddenly addressed her; though, the moment after she would recover herself, and evince absolute anxiety to address him. Norbourne was convinced that there was some secret; and the deep respect and affection he felt for a parent who had been every thing to him, made him reluctant to inquire into aught that she might wish concealed. Yet what possible mystery could there be? He was fretted and irresolute. Besides, what would Ethel think of his silence?
Another cause for embarrassment began to occasion him considerable uneasiness. He
