"Alas! restore to me the morning of life; place me in the same
circumstances, and I should fall again. I should be irresistibly
attracted by a heart that seemed made for mine."

"In _her_ arms thou didst forget the brother, whom thy cruelty had
doomed to the maniac's cell and chain?" said Holden.

"Never! his image is graven on my heart. I have never ceased to think
of him."

"Thou wouldst know him should he stand before thee?"

"Know him! aye, amidst ten thousand. No years could make such changes
as to hide him from me. But he is in his grave, while his murderer
lives."

"Thou didst find compensation for lamentation over the dead, in the
caresses of the living?"

"True, too true. While Frances lived, she was my heaven. It was
necessary that this idol should be torn from me. My son, too. Oh,
James, my son! my son!"

Holden, during the conversation, had been unable to keep his seat, but
with the restlessness of his nature had been walking across the room,
stopping occasionally before Armstrong. The last expression of feeling
evidently affected him. The rapidity of his steps diminished; his
motions became less abrupt; and presently he laid his hand upon the
shoulder of Mr. Armstrong.