But he is the judge, not you; nor have I any right to do
what you ask me." She stopped, because the agitation took away her breath.
He began in a cold manner:--"I am very sorry. The law must take its course.
I would have saved my son from the pain of all this knowledge, and that
which he will of course feel in the necessity of giving up his engagement.
I would have refused to appear against your brother, shamefully ungrateful
as he has been. Now you cannot wonder that I act according to my agent's
advice, and prosecute your brother as if he were a stranger."
He turned to go away. He was so cold and determined that for a moment
Maggie was timid. But she then laid her hand on his arm.
"Mr. Buxton," said she, "you will not do what you threaten. I know you
better. Think! My father was your old friend. That claim is, perhaps, done
away with by Edward's conduct. But I do not believe you can forget it
always. If you did fulfill the menace you uttered just now, there would
come times as you grew older, and life grew fainter and fainter before
you--quiet times of thought, when you remembered the days of your youth,
and the friends you then had and knew;--you would recollect that one of
them had left an only son, who had done wrong--who had sinned--sinned
against you in his weakness--and you would think then--you could not help
it--how you had forgotten mercy in justice--and, as justice required he
should be treated as a felon, you threw him among felons--where every
glimmering of goodness was darkened for ever.
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