‘He was,’ replied the Doctor, looking confused.

‘I should like to see Oxford much,’ said Venetia.

‘It is a most interesting seat of learning,’ said the Doctor, quite delighted to change the subject.  ’Whether we consider its antiquity, its learning, the influence it has exercised upon the history of the country, its magnificent endowments, its splendid buildings, its great colleges, libraries, and museums, or that it is one of the principal head-quarters of all the hope of England, our youth, it is not too much to affirm that there is scarcely a spot on the face of the globe of equal interest and importance.’

’It is not for its colleges, or libraries, or museums, or all its splendid buildings,’ observed Venetia, ’that I should wish to see it.  I wish to see it because my father was once there.  I should like to see a place where I was quite certain my father had been.’

‘Still harping of her father,’ thought the Doctor to himself, and growing uneasy; yet, from his very anxiety to turn the subject, quite incapable of saying an appropriate word.

‘Do you remember my father at Oxford, Doctor Masham?’ said Venetia.

‘Yes! no, yes!’ said the Doctor, rather colouring; ’that he must have been there in my time, I rather think.’

‘But you do not recollect him?’ said Venetia, pressing question.

‘Why,’ rejoined the Doctor, a little more collected, ’when you remember that there are between two and three thousand young men at the university, you must not consider it very surprising that I might not recollect your father.’

‘No,’ said Venetia, ’perhaps not:  and yet I cannot help thinking that he must always have been a person who, if once seen, would not easily have been forgotten.’

‘Here is an Erica vagans,’ said the Doctor, picking a flower; ’it is rather uncommon about here;’ and handing it at the same time to Venetia.

‘My father must have been very young when he died?’ said Venetia, scarcely looking at the flower.

‘Yes, your father was very young,’ he replied.

‘Where did he die?’

‘I cannot answer that question.’

‘Where was he buried?’

’You know, my dear young lady, that the subject is too tender for any one to converse with your poor mother upon it.  It is not in my power to give you the information you desire.  Be satisfied, my dear Miss Herbert, that a gracious Providence has spared to you one parent, and one so inestimable.’

‘I trust I know how to appreciate so great a blessing,’ replied Venetia; ’but I should be sorry if the natural interest which all children must take in those who have given them birth, should be looked upon as idle and unjustifiable curiosity.’

‘My dear young lady, you misapprehend me.’