in silence, then pressing his hand: "My dearest husband (said she) from whence proceeds that sorrow which clouds your features, and seems to fill your eyes with tears? Tell me, have you deceived me into hope, or is your father's forgiveness fettered with conditions that distress your feelings? Your looks correspond not with the joyful intelligence you communicated this morning.—Tell me, I beseech you, what there is behind which is a drawback upon such an event as I thought must have insured your happiness."
Ferdinand endeavoured to recover himself, and by a little evasion prepare her for future communications.—"Your penetration, my dear Claudina, cannot be eluded; know then that the state of my father is such as inclines me to think it is almost past a doubt, that you will see him no more. I see you are affected (added he) but you know he has long been ill, and therefore such an event may be expected; compose yourself, how-
