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I had interested ourselves in it as in duty bound,) and saying→

"I am only asking for justice. Why do you look so satirical?”

He roused himself to answer the challenge. "If I did look satirical," said he, "I suppose it was because I was amused at the modesty of your request. You only asked for-justice!"

"Well," she replied, "and could I ask for less?"

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"Could you hope for more?" answered he. Nay, could even your sanguine imagination hope for so much? I won't say that justice is a rare phenomenon in this world, because that would imply that it is occasionally to be met with."

I could only repeat his words, in profound amaze

ment.

"Yes," he reiterated, "she has refused him point blank. I can't quite make her out about it; but one thing is very clear, that she is not to be shaken. The marriage would have been so agreeable to me in every way, that I own I had rather set my heart upon it; but her determination was so unhesitating that I could scarcely attempt to dispute it; and you know, to speak common sense, and put romance out of the question, Edith is so young and so pretty, that she may very well afford to wait a year or two before she makes her choice.” There was no questioning the truth of this assertion; still he was evidently disappointed, and I "And do you mean to say," cried Lord Vaughan, could not but sympathize with his feelings. I too in utter surprise, “that it is never to be met with? | had been indulging in anticipations and hopes, and Really this is a most extraordinary idea." it was not agreeable to have them annihilated when "It is not in reality, so unwelcome as it seems I least expected it. I had fancied that the intimacy at first sight," rejoined Everard, quietly. "Jus-between Edith and her lover was rapidly assuming tice--which is all Miss Kinnaird asks for or needs," a tender character on both sides; indeed, the idea he added, with a bow, as if the necessity of the compliment had suddenly occurred to him, "would be to many people an object of fear rather than hope."

And you think no one is ever really just to another," said Edith, thoughtfully, as though she had been pondering his words.

"I do indeed," he replied, "a man feels too much to be really just-a woman, too little." "Your paradox is for once true," cried Edith with spirit. "A man does always feel his own wrongs very keenly, while a woman is apt to overlook hers, or ready to forgive them."

that the offer had been already made and accepted, but was for some reason concealed, had more than once occurred to me. I could not understand it, and I did not affect to do so.

"Edith's manner has entirely misled me," said I, "and I fear she has been unintentionally misleading Lord Vaughan. I hope they did not part in bitterness."

"I hope not," was his reply. "She has not a particle of the coquette in her composition, and I conclude that the encouragement which she has unwittingly given arose from her consciousness of her own indifference, and her unconsciousness of any warmer feeling in him. Were she two years "older I should fancy that her affections were preengaged-but, as it is, that is quite impossible-so it is altogether a mystery.'

"Your ingenuity deserves the compliment of submission," answered he, “so I resign my arms. "You are wise every way," rejoined Edith more gravely than was her wont, "for whether you win or lose, the contest is scarcely suited to a ball-room. So I will leave you to your misanthropy, and try whether it be possible to force a passage into the ice-room."

Lord Vaughan was only too happy to comply with the suggestion contained in her last words, and they moved away. Miss Kinnaird's praise of the ball, on the following morning, was rather more languid than I had expected, but I suppose this might fairly be attributed to fatigue.

Two months have passed since I wrote the last sentence, and I resume my pen to recount the occurrences of the closing week of the period, which has been anything but uneventful. Kinnaird entered the drawing-room where I was at work, and Captain Everard reading in a corner. His countenance was expressive of business, and that not of an agreeable kind; and he addressed me immediately, either overlooking or disregarding his friend's pres

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Nothing more entirely amazes and bewilders a man than the discovery that a woman who is disengaged has refused an unobjectionable offer. It is the greatest trial of faith to which he can be subjected; for it jars with all his preconceived ideas, and stands before him as a fact for which there is actually no place in his system, and in order to account for which the system itself must undergo a radical change. Few, however, are candid enough for this; such occurrences generally form a fresh illustration of the German aphorism," so much the worse for the facts," and receive a shape or a color from the mind of the observer which so alters them as to enable him to explain them satisfactorily to himself.

But to return. My short conversation with Captain Kinnaird was succeeded by that grave and awkward silence which commonly occurs between two persons who have the same unpleasing theme to occupy their thoughts, and do not in the least know what to say to each other about it. This was interrupted by Captain Everard, whom we had both forgotten, but who now came forward, and addressed his friend somewhat hurriedly,

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Kinnaird, have you any commands for London? I am sorry to say I'm obliged to be off on very short notice."

"Obliged to be off!" cried Frank, in astonishment. "Why Everard, are you mad!"

"I don't see any proof of insanity in it," returned Everard, coloring immoderately; "I have letters which—in short, it don't admit of delay—and go I must."

"I hope you have not received bad news, Captain Everard?" said I, civilly.

"No, I thank you," rejoined he―" only urgent | I returned slowly into the apartment, where I found business."

"But Everard!" cried Kinnaird, who was still gazing at him in silent wonder.

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My dear fellow, there's no use in talking about it. I am sorry to be obliged to close my visit so abruptly; but I do assure you-"

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"This won't do," interrupted Frank, seizing him by the arm; scarcely an hour ago you were talking of your plans here for the next six weeks; and, as for your being summoned away by a letter, I wonder you are not ashamed to offer me such an excuse. You know very well there has been no post since the morning. Everard, what does this mean? It is not friendly-it is not fair. Why do you change color so? What has happened? Has anything offended you? Have you quarrelled with anybody?"

Captain Everard was absolutely silent, and seemed to be overpowered by an embarrassment as unaccountable as it was unusual. After a moment's pause, Kinnaird proceeded with increased energy. "I must have an explanation. You have altered your plans since I came into this room. It is not possible that Edith's refusal of Lord Vaughan can have affected you-Everard? Is it possible that Edith-"

Everard sitting, his face hidden in his hands—
"And this," murmured he, as I approached-
speaking, however, to himself, not to me-" and
this is the man I thought shallow-hearted-this the
world which-oh, folly and presumption !"

The broken sentences were most expressive, and
I stood contemplating him in silence, and involun-
tarily and unconsciously giving him all my sympa-
thy, and losing sight altogether of propriety, policy,
wisdom, my own outraged dignity, and—Owen,
who having entered the room unperceived, speedily
challenged my attention by saying-
"Well, Peggy! have you not a word to say to
me?"

If a thunderbolt had fallen at my feet-(to use an expression not uncommon in modern novels, the applicability of which I will not pause to discuss)— if a thunderbolt had fallen at my feet, I could not have experienced greater terror or amazement. Scarcely retaining the command of my senses, I turned to him, exclaiming

"Gracious Heavens! Owen! what has brought you here?"

"An affectionate reception, truly," returned he, apparently a little amazed-"I am sorry that my sudden apparition should disturb the even tenor of He came to a pause here, in the series of breath-your housekeeping. I told you I would run down less and bewildered questions which he had poured for a week or two, if I could; and yesterday I got forth so rapidly that he scarcely seemed to compre-a put off from Livingston, to whom I was going for hend them himself. Captain Everard, releasing himself from his grasp, answered in a low, quick voice, as he moved away

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It would have been more generous, Frank, to leave the subject untouched. I expected that your sister's engagement to Lord Vaughan would have been declared: now that I find she has refused him, I feel that I had better go. Let us say no more about it."

the next fortnight; so, not conceiving it necessary to stand on much ceremony with you, I put myself into the mail last night-and here I am. One would almost fancy," added he, lowering his voice, with an expression of dry humor, "that I had interrupted a very interesting tête-à-tête."

"Do you mean to tell me that you love Edith?"" cried Frank, following him.

"I have been in constant intercourse with her for more than two months; is not that answer enough?" returned his friend.

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"But it is unnecessary for you to speak," he added, proudly, you cannot be more fully conscious than I am of the impossibility—”

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My dearest Philip!" exclaimed Kinnaird, shaking him by both hands, and well nigh embracing him in his transport; "this is what I wished and hoped; but you were so impracticably cold, that I was forced to give up the idea. Edith and you were made for each other, and I want nothing but your union to make me the happiest fellow alive. What absurd scruple has kept you silent? Don't stare at me, man, as if your senses had taken leave of you! From the first moment you became my friend, my pet vision has been the thought of bringing you and my sister together, if only she should grow up worthy of you; and I rather think you won't deny that the condition is fulfilled. Where is Edith ?"

"Of course I am delighted to see you," said I, recovering as well as I could from my bewilderment, and wishing him in the Queen's Bench, only I was so excessively surprised. Pray allow me to introduce-Captain Everard-Mr. Owen Forde."

Captain Everard had risen from his seat, as soon as he became aware of the entrance of a stranger; he gave Owen bow for bow with due courtesy, but, apparently quite unable to compel himself to the ordinary civilities consequent on an introduction, murmured something about an imaginary appointment, and walked straight out of the room.

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Pray, who may Captain Everard be?" inquired Owen, "and, pray, where is my fair ward?"

"Where, indeed?" thought I. What a pair of questions! I grew desperate, yet was my position so ludicrous that I could almost have laughed. I could not tell Owen what had happened, or rather what was happening, for many reasons-two of which were that I understood it very imperfectly myself, and that I did not know whether Edith would accept or refuse Everard. In the latter case it would certainly be the best policy to say nothing whatever about it. Yet in my heart I felt almost certain that she would accept him-a sudden instinct seemed to have come upon me, and I marvelled at my own previous blindness. Had I answered Owen's two questions with plain sincerity, I might “For Heaven's sake, Captain Kinnaird, con- have said-"Who is Captain Everard?—A pennisider!"-exclaimed I, finding my tongue at last, less soldier! Where is your ward?-In the garand running after him in an absolute fever of alarm. den accepting him!" I believe Owen would have But it availed not; he had seen Edith on the lawn, screamed! And yet what was I to do? All this and had joined her before I got further than the while it might be, and probably was, taking place, steps of the drawing-room window. I saw him put and nothing could be done to prevent it. Hurriedly his arm round her waist, and lead her away. Never reviewing the circumstances of all parties, and trywas a hapless chaperon more utterly confounded. [ing to conceal my perturbation from Owen's sur

"Frank! Frank!" cried Everard, vainly attempting to detain him as he darted from the

room

prised and inquiring eye, I resolved to get rid of him as quickly as possible, and to rush into the garden and obtain an interview with Miss Kinnaird, if possible, before she should see Captain Everard. So I answered my brother as indifferently as I could. "He is a friend of Captain Kinnaird's, and is now staying with him. But, my dear Owen," ringing the bell, "you must be tired to death, and chilled to an icicle. Light a fire directly in the bay-windowed bedroom," I continued, addressing the servant who obeyed my summons, 66 get some hot water, and then let luncheon be ready for Mr. Forde. While you are making yourself comfortable, Owen, I will find Edith, and prepare her for the formidable introduction. I think she is walking in the garden."

"With Lord Vaughan, I hope," observed Owen, complacently.

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But, do you know what you have done, Captain Kinnaird ?" answered I; "and what will be the end of it? I have not an idea that Mr. Forde will consent to so unequal a marriage." "Mr. Forde!"

"Yes; my brother; your sister's guardian." "I'll be hanged if I ever thought of him for one single moment!" cried the young man, impatiently stamping his foot.

"İdare say not," observed I; "but I assure you he is not a person to be trifled with, and I do not see the slightest hope of obtaining his consent. Oh, with what compunction did I call to mind the I am afraid you have involved your sister's happitriumphant letter which I had dispatched to Owen ness very rashly. What is more, very unfortuonly a week ago, containing a rose-colored descrip-nately, my brother has arrived unexpectedly, and is tion of Lord Vaughan and his attentions! "I don't this moment in the drawing-room!" know," was my insincere rejoinder, and, as my eyes involuntarily wandered to the window, I fancied I could detect Edith's form in the shrubbery, on the further side of the lawn. Was she alone?

He stared in my face in blank discomfiture. I found myself fast losing the tone of rational remonstrance in which I had felt bound to begin the conversation. "I am excessively sorry," said I, answering his looks, for he did not speak a word; "but I really don't see what is to be done. I will go to Edith, and try to prepare her for an interview with her guardian. But I don't see that there is any use in deferring the evil hour; and, if I were you, I would go at once to Mr. Forde, and open the subject."

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"Could n't it be concealed altogether?" sug. gested he. "She will be of age in three years.' "I cannot countenance any such arrangement," returned I, with unwonted resolution.

Just re

"I hope," continued Owen, lowering his voice to a confidential tone, "I hope, my dear Peggy, that affair is progressing as favorably as when you last wrote. Few things could give me more unmixed satisfaction. I think it quite a case in which a very short engagement might be permitted, and I should not wonder if, instead of troubling Lady Frances with the chaperonage of an unfledged débutante, I shall have to request her to undertake the presentation of a bride-a much pleasanter office, I take it. I shall win the lover's heart by my readiness to shorten his probation, and, between our-flect for a moment on the duplicity which it would selves, I don't know any house that would afford involve! your sister would be compelled to imply, me such good head quarters as his, during my Lon- if not to utter, a falsehood, ten times a day. The don visit. The experienced Lady Frances herself more fondly you love her, the more anxiously ought couldn't have proved a more judicious chaperon you to avoid placing her in such a position. than you, my unsophisticated sister. Je vous en fais mes complimens. After all, you women have a prodigious advantage over us in that respect-your wit is inborn, and you don't require an apprenticeship to society to teach you how to use it. But what are you stretching your neck, and straining your eyes, at the window for? my dear Peggy, Ì do believe you have not heard a word I have been saying. What is the matter?"

No! Miss Kinnaird was not alone-and her companion was at least a head taller than Frank! Could I be expected to hear what Owen was saying? He reiterated his query-" What on earth is the matter?"

"Oh nothing," cried I, "I was merely looking for Edith. I perfectly agree with you-nothing can be more judicious."

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"Than what?" demanded Owen.

"You are right!" cried he, " and I spoke inconsiderately, as I believe I generally do. Thank you for your advice. I will go to Mr. Forde!" and, ever as rapid in his movements as in his ideas, before I had time to answer, he was in the drawingroom.

I stood still for a moment to collect my thoughts, and then went up stairs to Edith. I found her, as I had expected, in a state of great agitation. She hid her face on my shoulder, wept, and spoke in broken sentences of her happiness and her astonishment. It was presumption in her, she said-with the sweet exaggeration of a woman's love, truer than truth-even to think of one so immeasurably her superior; but her devotion must make up for her defects. At first I could do nothing but soothe and sympathize; gradually I tried to bring her to the contemplation of possible difficulties; and, at "I really must go for Edith," exclaimed I. last, with some trepidation, I broke to her the fact "Owen, your luncheon will be ready directly." of Owen's arrival, and certain disapprobation. It And out of the room I ran, fairly unable to endure did not produce the effect which I had anticipated. it any longer. As I closed the door, I heard Owen's She could scarcely be brought to entertain the idea natural ejaculation, "Very unaccountable, really!" of Owen as a person to be considered in the matter Almost on the threshold I met Captain Kin- at all; seemed to regard his consent or refusal with naird, who, taking both my hands, thus greeted me: profound indifference; and even, as far as I could Congratulate me, my dear Miss Forde! I'm gather, appeared to think that three, five, or afraid I did n't manage the matter quite so delicately ten years of delay would interfere but little with as I ought to have done-or as it would have been her happiness. She was absorbed by one feeling managed, had I left it in your hands-but all 's well-filled with one idea-namely, that she was bethat ends well, you know, and the end of this is per- loved; and everything else seemed unreal to her. fect. They are engaged hand and heart! I've just She heard and understood the words, but they made

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no impression; there was not room for them in her heart. I verily believe that, had she been told at that moment that she was never to see Everard again, she would scarcely have apprehended it as a misfortune. The consciousness of his love would have seemed to her enough for a lifetime. This, I knew, could not last; but, while it was thus withness, which, indeed, rarely forsook him, and turning her, arguments were vain; so, having acquitted my conscience, by informing her of the truth, I did not attempt to stem the tide of her feelings, and had very nearly become as romantic as herself, when a tap at the door recalled me to sublunary affairs. "Come in!"

"If you please, ma'am, you are wanted in the drawing-room."

The spell was broken; and I went down like a criminal to execution.

CHAPTER VI.

I FOUND Owen, as I expected, in great wrath. He was walking rapidly up and down the room, while Kinnaird, whose levity was unconquerable, stood on the hearth-rug, coolly regarding him, and looking ready to laugh—an inclination which good breeding scarcely restrained. My brother stopped in his angry walk as I entered, and, coming close up to me, said, with great vehemence," Peggy, this is the most incredible piece of absurdity that I ever met with in my life. Of course, it cannot be permitted to go on for a moment, and I only wonder that you but you have evidently been duped in the

matter."

I saw Frank's color rise at the offensive word, and hastened to interpose. "I have been mistaken, certainly," I said, " and I am very sorry that I have misled you unintentionally." Here I stopped, for I was afraid to attack his opinions, and unwilling to acquiesce in them, so I resolved to stand on the defensive.

"Misled me!" replied my indignant brother. "Yes-but I have my own folly to thank for it, in not putting Miss Kinnaird under the charge of a person who knew something of the world-Mrs. Alvanley for instance"-(Oh, could Mrs. Alvanley have heard him!)-" Yet, even allowing you the simplicity of a pinafored girl of thirteen, I can't understand how you should have so completely lost your wits. The insanity of allowing this Captain Everard's perpetual visits is to me perfectly inexplicable.

"This Captain Everard," remarked Kinnaird, "is one of the most distinguished officers in the service-a man as superior to Lord Vaughan, in mind and manners, as Lord Vaughan is to a chimneysweep-and, moreover, my most intimate friend." "So be it," returned Owen, more calmly, but with intense obstinacy of tone, “nevertheless, his pretensions to the hand of Miss Kinnaird are simply ludicrous, and I do not intend that he shall have the opportunity of urging them again. Perhaps you will have the goodness to notify this to him."

"No, Mr. Forde," retorted Frank, "I must request you to be the bearer of your own messages -I cannot undertake the office."

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tion-but at that moment a step was heard in the hall, and with a half-laugh and a significant look to me, he quitted the room, leaving me with the consolatory impression that he had gone out to join his friend, and, not improbably, to conduct him to Edith! By this time Owen had quite recovered his coolto me he said, with a deliberation which left no room for hope, "There is no use in discussing the subject. The young lady will, I dare say, shed a few natural tears, and pout a little, as in duty bound -but in a fortnight she will be ready for another lover, and by the year's end she will congratulate herself on having some one to act for her who has the good luck to possess a little common sense. Only let this be distinctly understood, that I allow no interview, no engagement, no correspondence. I won't have an under-current of mystery to keep up sentimental nonsense in a silly girl's brain. Let it all be at an end, and, if she behaves well, I promise to say nothing to her about it. Tell her this, Peggy, and now let me get my luncheon."

"Owen, you are positively cruel. I do assure you this is no new girlish fancy that will pass away. It is unfortunate, I admit, but she is really and thoroughly attached to him."

My brother began to laugh. "I admire the real and thorough attachment of a girl of eighteen," said he. "A pack of nonsense! I beg your pardon, Peggy, but I certainly never made a greater mistake than in selecting you for a duenna-your manner of viewing things is so inimitably youthful. Take her to choose a new bonnet, or talk to her about her court-dress for the spring."

The tone in which he spoke was inexpressibly provoking, and I felt my temper beginning to give way. "As you say," I replied, "it is useless to discuss the subject-our views are so utterly opposite, that each speaks to the other as if in a foreign language. I consider you at least as much in the wrong as you consider me. Only, if you fancy it will be an easy task to induce Edith to give up her engagement, I can tell you you are completely mistaken."

"You are angry," he answered, "yet you can scarcely be surprised that I don't feel any very profound confidence in your judgment just at present. I know your intentions are the best in the worldbut I can't forget that it is scarcely a week since you wrote me word that Miss Kinnaird was in a fair way to become Lady Vaughan. My dear Peggy, if you will walk through the world with your eyes shut, and resist every effort to open them, you must at least suffer yourself to be led by the hand."

I bit my lips and was silent, and Owen withdrew to his bedroom. I went slowly up stairs to Edith's boudoir, where, as I had anticipated, I found both Kinnaird and Everard. Edith herself was sitting on the sofa, her face bowed upon her hands, and her tears falling fast through the clasped fingers. Captain Everard addressed me at once:

"Miss Forde, before I go-and I feel that I must not remain-I am anxious that you should do me justice. Till this morning I was not aware of Mr. Forde's existence, much less of Edith's"-(he pronounced the word with a lingering hesitation of tone very unusual with him, and a most eloquent glance at the drooping figure on the sofa)" much less of Edith's dependence on his will. I imagined that Frank and yourself were her sole guardians, and you know that, even when I thus thought, Í was not guilty of the presumption of supposing He seemed, at first, disposed to resist my sugges-myself an acceptable suitor."

"My dear Frank," said I, putting my hand on his arm, it is not by irritating my brother that we have any hope of changing his resolution. You are naturally excited; now, do go away, and leave me to do the best I can with him. Go to Edith," added I in a whisper, urging him gently towards the door, "I think she ought to hear the truth at

once.'

"No, no-not presumption-don't use the word!" | feared to lose a word. What evil spirit brought to murmured Edith.

He looked at her for a moment in silence, and then proceeded, though in a less steady tone of voice, "I am as conscious as Mr. Forde himself can be, that a poor man, and a man of no family, is, as the world judges, without a right—”

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But here Edith interrupted him. Suddenly clasping his hand between her own, and lifting her beautiful face, all burning with blushes and suffused with tears, she exclaimed, Oh, hollow nonsense! it is yourself that I love. One unset diamond is more valuable than a tiara of glittering paste! What could family or fortune have to do with you, except to receive honor from you?"

Recovering himself with an effort, and still keeping Edith's hand in his, Everard continued in a low restrained voice, the calmness of which betrayed the intensity of the agitation which he was repressing, "I should despise myself forever were I capable of taking advantage of these feelings to involve her in a clandestine engagement; at her age-under her circumstances-it were unmanly and dishonorable. No! I must go for three years we part, and she is as free as if she had never known me."

"She is free!" repeated Edith. "Ah! say it of me if you will; but you do not dare say it to me. You cannot mock me by telling me that I am free, at the very moment when you are riveting my chains. But Oh! such a happy prisoner!" she added, relapsing into tears, and speaking in a broken, faltering voice; "we have not time for all this conventionalism-this acting-Oh! speak really to me! -this once more-this last time-speak as you are, and as you feel!"

His stoicism was fairly conquered. "My own Edith!" said he, in a voice tender as a mother's to her first-born-reverent as a devotee's to his saint -"I will not wound you any more by false phrases. It is true; you are my own; and were we to part for ten years, instead of three, I should esteem it sin to suffer one doubt of you to trouble my peace. My faith in you comes next to my faith in God; God grant it be not the stronger of the two! Bear these three years, for my sake; knowing that I am with you the whole time, though the wide world be between us, and that, when we meet, we shall meet as though we had never parted!”

She subdued her emotion to listen to him; raising her head, and holding her breath, as though she

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my mind at such a moment her vain and girlish love of general admiration and attention, and suggested to me that she would fail in the refined and impassioned constancy which he demanded of her?

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And, remember this, my beloved," he continued more hurriedly, "that I go from you a changed man, and that the change is your work. My misanthropy is gone from me. I feel that I have sinned against the world, and the race to which I belong. I feel and confess the folly and self-sufficiency of my distrust of others. Even at this moment, this thought makes me happy; for my faith and love are restored-or rather created anew. Frank," wringing his hand, "I have wronged you; forgive me; I know you now-ay, and I know myself too. Edith-but it is enough! God bless you!"

Silently returning my silent pressure of the hand, he hurried from the room, and the low sobs of Edith were the only sounds which disturbed the stillness.

And so ends the history of the first period of my acquaintance with Edith Kinnaird. A nervous fever was the natural result of that day of agitation; but it was neither long nor severe; and Owen classed it with the hysterics and fainting-fits which he believed that all young ladies were capable of summoning to their assistance at pleasure. When I resigned her to the charge of Lady Frances Moore, she had recovered her health, and, in some measure, her spirits; for she was of an elastic and energetic nature, and was now possessed by the one sole purpose of cherishing secretly the recollection of her lover, and endeavoring to employ the three years of separation in rendering herself more worthy of him. I knew how soon this enthusiasm would flag; how wearily the slow hours would struggle onward; but in very pity I would not disturb it. Like the eagerness of a young horse at the foot of a long, steep ascent, though transient, it was real, and would carry her forward unconsciously over a portion of the way. But the toil must begin; and, alas! how would she bear it?

With her tacit engagement Owen could not interfere-about the state of her feelings he did not trouble himself; and the next thing I heard was that she had been presented at court in white satin and diamonds, and all London was raving of her matchless beauty.

Yet with one fearful struggle,

When at last the dread blow fell, I have kept my heart from breaking, And calmly said, farewell!

I have looked at the grave, and shuddered
For my kindred treading near,

And when their feet had entered,
My soul forgot its fear.

Our ills are not so many

Nor so hard to bear below,

But our suffering in dread of the future
Is more than our present woe.

We see with our vision imperfect
Such causes of doubt and fear-
Some yet that are far in the distance,
And some that may never be near-
When, if we would trust in His wisdom,
Whose purpose we may not see,
We would find, whatever our trials,
As our day our strength shall be.
Cincinnati, Ohio.

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