Fear not to trust me, my heart. I will love whom you love, favour
whom you favour. I am no tyrant, that my sweet daughter should grow pale
with keeping secrets from me."
"Dear father, you are all goodness. No, there is no one--no one! I am happy
with you. I have no one in the world but you, and, in a so much lesser
degree of love, my sister and her children--"
"And Fareham. He should be to you as a brother. He is of a black
melancholic humour, and not a man whom women love; but he has a heart of
gold, and must regard you with grateful affection for your goodness to him
when he was sick. Hyacinth is never weary of expatiating upon your devotion
in that perilous time."
"She is foolish to talk of services I would have given as willingly to a
sick beggar," Angela answered, impatiently.
Her face was still hidden against her father's breast; but she lifted her
head presently, and the pale calmness of her countenance reassured him.
"Well, it is uncommon strange," he said, "if one so fair has no sweetheart
among all the sparks of Whitehall."
"Lord Fareham hates Whitehall. We have only attended there at great
festivals, when my sister's absence would have been a slight upon her
Majesty and the Duchess.
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