The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

THE SURGEON'S DAUGHTER. 507
passes -but retire. To what purpose should you cling to the idle wish of
beholding for a moment a being whom you can never again look upon?"
"Alas," answered the lady, "and is not your declaration that I shall
never see him more, a sufficient reason that I should wish to see him nowshould wish to imprint on my memory the features and the form' which I am
never again to behold while we are in the body? Do not, my Richard, be
more cruel than was my poor father, even when his wrath was in its bitterness. He let me look upon my infant, and its cherub face dwelt with me,
and was my comfort among the years of unutterable sorrow in which my
youth wore away."
"It is enough, Zilia - you have desired this boon- I have granted itand, at whatever risk, my promise shall be kept. But think how much depends on this fatal secret —your rank and estimation in society-my
honour interested that that estimation should remain uninjured. Zilia, the
moment that the promulgation of such a secret gives prudes and scandalmongers a right to treat you with scorn, will be fraught with unutterable
misery, perhaps with bloodshed and death, should a man dare to take up
the rumour."
"You shall be obeyed, my husband," answered Zilia, "in all that the
frailness of nature will permit. But oh, God of my fathers, of what clay
hast thou fashioned us poor mortals, who dread so much the shame which
follows sin, yet repent so little for the sin itself!" In a minute afterwards
steps were heard-the door opened-Winter announced Lieutenant Middlemas, and the unconscious son stood before his parents.
Witherington started involuntarily up, but immediately constrained himself to assume the easy deportment with which a superior receives a dependent, and which, in his own case, was usually mingled with a certain degree
of hauteur. The mother had less command of herself. She, too, sprung
up, as if with the intention of throwing herself on the neck of her son, for
whom she had travailed and sorrowed. But the warning glance of her husband arrested her as if by magic, and she remained standing, with her
beautiful head and neck somewhat advanced, her hands clasped together,
and extended forward in the attitude of motion, but motionless, nevertheless, as a marble statue, to which the sculptor has given all the appearance
of life, but cannot impart its powers. So strange a gesture and posture
might have excited the young officer's surprise; but the lady stood in the
shade, and he was so intent in looking upon his patron, that he was scarce
even conscious of Mrs. Witherington's presence.
"I am happy in this opportunity," said Middlemas, observing that the
General did not speak, "to return my thanks to General Witherington, to
whom they never can be sufficiently paid."
The sound of his voice, though uttering words so indifferent, seemed to
dissolve the charm which kept his mother motionless. She sighed deeply,
relaxed the rigidity of her posture, and sunk back on the cushions from
which she had started up. Middlemas turned a look towards her at the
sound of the sigh, and the rustling of her drapery. The General hastened
to speak.
" My wife, Mr. Middlemas, has been unwell of late - your friend, Mr.
Iartley, might mention it to you -an affection of the nerves."
Mr. Middlemas was, of course, sorry and concerned.
" We have had distress in our family, Mr. Middlemas, from the ultimate
and heart-breaking consequences of which we have escaped by the skill of
your friend, Mr. Hartley. We will be happy if it is in our power to
repay a part of our obligations in service to his friend and proteg6, Mr.
AMiddlemas."
"I am only acknowledged as his protege, then," thought Richard; but he
said, " Every one must envy his friend in having had the distinguished good
fortune to be of use to General Witherington and his family."