brother towards a sister; but whatever may be the case hereafter, my line of duty is marked out, and ought steadily to be followed; that is, not to encourage anything that could fetter the future choice of either party before they had fully seen others and mixed with the world, and with all the fond care of a mother endeavour, while she is yet so young, to prevent her heart and mind from being occupied by ideas not suited to what should be her present occupations, and hereafter, with the blessing of God, guard her against the dangers she may be liable to be ensnared into by the position in which she is placed....  You have been, I rejoice to hear, raised in the opinion of all with whom you have lately had to transact business by your firmness and decision.  You are in an honourable profession, which gives you occupation....  Resist drink, or a rash throwing away life, or wasting in any way the energies of a naturally strong, sensible mind, and really attached heart.  Now write to me soon; tell me truly if I have tried your patience by this long letter which I venture to send, for it is when returning to life as I now feel that renewed love for all dear to one seems to take possession of our hearts, so you must forgive it if you find it long.  Your uncle and cousin send their kindest love.—­Adieu, dearest Roger, ever be assured of the sincere affection and real attachment of your aunt. 
                                      KATHERINE DOUGHTY.”

Roger protested that his failings had been exaggerated, and by his letters it is noticeable there is a trace of vexation that Lady Doughty should have lent an ear to coloured reports of his manner of life; but there is no abatement in the affectionate terms on which he stood with his aunt at Tichborne.  Matters, however, could not long go on in this fashion.  As yet Roger Tichborne had never spoken of his love to Miss Doughty, though it cannot be doubted that some tokens had revealed that secret.  But love must find expression in something more than hints and tokens, and at last came the inevitable time.  It was on Christmas eve, 1851, that Roger joyfully set foot in Tichborne Park once more.  That was a happy meeting in all but the fact that Sir Edward Doughty was in weak health.  Now comes the denoument.  Miss Doughty had given Roger a keepsake volume of Father Faber’s Hymns, and there was an exchange of gifts.  Suddenly the truth flashed across the mind of the father, and he was vexed and angry.  On a Sunday morning, when the two cousins had been walking in the garden enjoying the bright winter day, and they were sitting together at breakfast, a message came that Sir Edward desired to see his nephew in the library.  The girl waited, but Roger did not come back to the breakfast table.  The eyes of the cousins met sorrowfully in the chapel, and in the afternoon, with Lady Doughty’s permission, they saw each other in the drawing-room to take farewell.  For Sir Edward’s fiat had gone forth.  Marriage