Soon after Lord and Lady St. Eval’s departure for Italy, Mr. Grahame, despite the entreaties of his friends, even the silent eloquence of Lilla’s appealing eyes, put his resolution into force, and retired to Wales.  He had paid to the last farthing all his misguided son’s honourable and dishonourable debts; and this proceeding, as might be expected, left him so reduced in fortune as to demand the greatest economy to live with any comfort.  To such an evil Grahame seemed insensible; his only wish was to escape from the eye and tongue of the world.  A mistaken view with regard to his child also urged him on.  Why should he expose her to the attentions of the young noblemen so constantly visiting at Mr. Hamilton’s house, when, he felt assured, however eagerly his alliance would once have been courted, now not one would unite himself to the sister of a publicly disgraced and privately dishonoured man?  No, it was better for her to be far away; and though her mild submission to his wishes, notwithstanding the pain he knew it was to part from her friends at Oakwood, rendered her dearer to him than ever, still he wavered not in his resolution.  The entreaties of Arthur Myrvin, Emmeline, and Ellen did, however, succeed in persuading him to fix his place of retirement at Llangwillan, so that all connection would not be so completely broken between them, as were he to seek some more distant part of the country.  Llangwillan, Arthur urged, was scarcely known to the world at large, but it was to them, and they might hope sometimes, to see them; for he, Emmeline, and Ellen would often visit his father.  Grahame consented, to the great joy of his child, who felt more than himself the force of Myrvin’s arguments.

“Mr. Myrvin is such a dear, good, old man, you cannot fail to love him, Lilla,” Ellen said, soothingly, as the day of parting neared.  “You must ask him to show you the little cottage where the first eight weeks of my residence in England were passed, and make friends with the old widow and her daughter for my sake; you will find them willing enough to talk about us and my poor mother, if you once speak on the subject.  And my mother’s grave, dear Lilla, you will visit that sometimes, will you not? and not permit a weed to mingle with the flowers Arthur planted around it after we left, to distinguish it, he said, from every other grave.  It shall be your charge, dearest Lilla, and Edward and I will thank you for it; he never goes to Llangwillan without passing an hour of each day by that little humble mound.”

“Edward, does he ever come to Llangwillan?” Lilla suddenly asked, her tears checked, and every feature expressive of such animated hope, that Ellen looked at her for a moment in astonishment, and then smilingly answered in the affirmative.  Lilla clasped her hands in sudden joy, and then, as if ashamed, hid her face, burning with blushes, on Ellen’s hand.  Her companion stooped down to kiss her brow, and continued talking of her brother for some time longer.