When I heard my father speak the other night, my heart glowed
with emotion; my eyes were suffused with tears; I was proud to
be his daughter; and I gloried in a race of forefathers who
belonged to the oppressed and not to the oppressors."
Morley watched the deep splendour of her eye and the mantling
of her radiant cheek, as she spoke these latter words with not
merely animation but fervour. Her bright hair, that hung on
either side her face in long tresses of luxuriant richness,
was drawn off a forehead that was the very throne of thought
and majesty, while her rich lip still quivered with the
sensibility which expressed its impassioned truth.
"But your father, Sybil, stands alone," at length Morley
replied; "surrounded by votaries who have nothing but
enthusiasm to recommend them; and by emulous and intriguing
rivals, who watch every word and action, in order that they
may discredit his conduct, and ultimately secure his
downfall."
"My father's downfall!" said Sybil. "Is he not one of
themselves! And is it possible, that among the delegates of
the People there can be other than one and the same object?"
"A thousand," said Morley; "we have already as many parties as
in St Stephen's itself.
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