with glistening eyes, and a more unsteady voice-for he had known Millicent from her childhood, and felt for her an almost paternal interest, which had not been diminished by certain lately held conferences with the indignant Nora, whose tale, however exaggerated, tallied but too well with his own preconceived suspicions" to be free with you, I will add, that I fear, I greatly fear Miss Aboyne's present malady proceeds as much from moral as physical causes, and that you will do well to shield her, with the most watchful tenderness, from every disquietude it may be in your power to avert. That gentle spirit of hers, and that tender frame, were not made to bide all blasts,' Mr. Vernon! Take care of her; she is well worth keeping ;" and so saying, the old man extricated the rein from Vernon's hold, by quickly spurring on his pony, and was soon beyond the reach of further questioning, leaving the questioner still rooted to the spot, with food enough for bitter reflection to keep him there-how long he knew not-before he recovered himself sufficiently to enter the cottage. "Unhappy lady! lay aside And now, poor heart! be wise, and crave He had con That Other drops had mingled with those yet glistening on the lines of that old song before Vernon, still holding the paper, let fall his arm upon the table, and bowing down his head, concealed his face within them. tinued thus for some time, and so deep was his abstraction, that he was perfectly unconscious of an approaching footstep, or that he was no longer alone, till a soft hand touched his, and looking up, he met the dewy eyes of his wronged Millicent fixed upon him with an expression of angelic pity. look set wide at once the floodgates of his before almost uncontrollable emotion, and starting up, he caught her to his bosom with a passionate suddenness, that, accompanied by halfintelligible words of love and self-reproach, almost overpowered her gentle and timid spirit. But soon recovering from the momentary agitation, she mildly soothed him to composure; and said, half smiling, as she softly drew the old song from his unconscious hand-" Dear Horace, I never doubted your heart-I never feared desertion."—"Bless you for that! Millicent, my beloved! my only love !-but can you-can you forgive?"-" That you have sometimes forgotten me of late, Horace ?". The porch door stood open, as did that of the little parlor; but the room was empty. Millicent had been recently there, however, for her handkerchief lay on the table beside a portfolio and some loose sheets of music. Throwing himself into the chair she had occupied, Vernon sat for some moments, his eyes fixed with unconscious gaze on the objects before him, till, half rousing himself from that abstraction, he began listlessly to turn them over, and at last his attention was arrested by a half-torn sheet that lay apart, with Millicent's handkerchief. The paper was wet. More than one drop-from what source he too well divined-had recently fallen on the words of a song which he well remembered having formerly given to Millicent, with a laughing injunction to make herself perfect in the old ditty against her day should come. The words ran thus-a quaint "auld-but-I have been bewildered-infatuwarld" conceit. ated-mad-I know not what ; and yet No, not forgotten-not forgotten, as Heaven shall judge me, Millicent !— my heart was here; nay, nay, look not incredulous, Milly !-here-here only, as I hope for-and did you not say you never doubted that?-Repeat it, my beloved!-tell me again you never doubted me, my generous, nobleminded love!"-"I never doubted your affection for me, Horace !" repeated Millicent, with tender seriousness;" but now, dear friend! sit down beside me, and let us both be calm, and talk together quietly and unreservedly, as it befits friends to" -"Friends! no more than friends, Milly is it come to this!" vehemently exclaimed Horace, with a reproachful look. "And what name more sacred, inore endearing?" she rejoined, in tones less faltering than before. "Friends here, and hereafter, and forever in that better place, where, sooner or later, whatever is reserved for us here, I trust we shall meet again, and be as the angels in heaven." "And here-here, Millicent! are we to be no more than friends? Have you forgotten, that within two little weeks you would have been my wife, if those fatal strangers!-but they will be gone before three weeks are over, and then" "And then, dear Horace! it will be time enough to talk of-of" our marriage day, she would have added, but her voice suddenly failed, and with a quivering lip she turned her face away from him, till the momentary weakness was overcome. It was soon mastered; and then, once more raising to his her not unmoistened eyes, she continued, "I have been wishing, earnestly wishing, for such an opportunity-such an opening as this, dear Horace !-to pour out my whole heart to you to reconcile you to your own, in case of an event, for which, I fear-I think you may be entirely unprepared, and which I know you would feel too painfully, if now, while we have time, we did not exchange mutual confidence and forgiveness for any wrongs fancied or" -But she was passionately interrupted" Now! while we have time! an event for which I am unprepared! -Millicent! Millicent! what mean you ?-But I deserve this torture❞— and grasping both her hands in his with convulsive violence, he gazed in her face with such a look of fearful inquiry, as wellnigh unnerved the poor Millicent, and rendered her incapable of reply. But making a strong effort for composure, she spoke again-at first only a few soothing and affectionate words to still the agitation that excited her tenderest compassion, and then, impressed with the seriousness and solemnity of the task she had imposed upon herself, she went on with quiet firmness to tell him of what had been so long upon her heart, though, till that moment, she had not found courage to impart it to him-time or opportunity, she might have said—but that would have sounded accusingly, and Millicent lived only to bless and to console."My dear Horace!" she continued, "hear me patiently-hear me calmly for my sake do so. For some time past, I have felt a conviction that I should not live to be your wife-nay, nay-start not so fearfully at these words-look not so shocked, so selfaccusing, Horace !—But for you—but for your care and kindness, I should long ago have followed my dear father. But you kept me here; and I thought then it was God's will that I should live and become the companion of your life. That thought was very sweet to me, dear Horace ! too sweet perhaps, for it made life too dear to me. But since-of late, as I have told you, I have had reason to believe that such was not God's pleasurenay, let me let me speak on now, Horace !-now that I am strengthened for the trial—and do not—do not think, dearest !-for I interpret that lookthat he has stricken me by the hand I loved; I was not made for duration, Horace !-you know my mother died early of consumption-I was not well before my father's death; and that great shock !-so sudden !—and”— "And I have done the rest!-Iwretch that I am!-Tell me so, Milly!-tell me so at once, rather than stab me with such mockery of comfort ;" and no longer able to restrain himself, even for her sake, he started from her side, and paced the room in agitation, that she wisely suffered to subside before she attempted to resume her affecting subject. "But it is not too late; Millicent! angel! thou wilt yet be spared that I may repay with life-long tenderness thy matchless excellence ;" and then, melted to softer feelings, he flung himself beside her, and clasping her to his bosom, gave way to a passion of womanish tears. When both had in some measure recovered composure, Vernon was the first to speak again, though in an agitated whisper :-"Tell me, my beloved! oh tell me, you will try to live for my sake! I know-I see how blind I have been-how madly blind to your increased indisposition; fool! idiot! that I was-I heard of it for the first time this morning from Mr. Henderson-but he told me-he said-indeed, indeed, Milly! our good friend thinks that with care and watchfulness all will go well again—and such care! -such watchfulness as I shall take now!"—And now their tears mingled; for Millicent's rolled fast down her pale cheeks, and it was many minutes before she again found utterance, and that her secret prayer for strength was answered, and she was able to speak to him words of peace and comfort. "I know-I know," she faltered out at last, "that I may yet recover, if such be God's pleasure, my Horace! -for in His hands are life and death -but, my beloved! if you would endeavor to reconcile yourself to a contrary event, I should be well content to go, for methinks the bitterness of death is past-and do not call it unkind, Horace ! I doubt whether I could ever again, under any circumstances, be so happy in this world as I have been. I feel as if the capabilities of earthly happiness and usefulness were dead within me ; as if I had already left my youth and prime of days at an immeasurable distanceand such a companion would ill suit you, Horace !—would ill assort with your buoyant spirit and unsubdued energies. But God's will be done! He will order all as is best for us; and if I live, and you continue to wish I should become your wife". "If I continue to wish it!-Oh, Millicent!" -"Then, then, dear Horace! I would only say-May God bless our union! but if it is not to be, I do not tell you to remember me; I know you will do that; but I would bid you, for my sake, torture not your own heart with self-upbraiding. Assign all-the ordering of all—as indeed is only fitting, to the will of Providence ;-and-and if my poor Nora should be unjust and unreasonable in her grief, bear with her, dear Horace, and be kind to her still, for my sake. This little dwelling!-I have taken some order about it, and her. The long-expected living will be yours at last ;—and thus I have so arranged it-you will not disapprove it, Horace ?-—that this cottage may be let or sold, and so furnish a provision for my faithful Nora. Forgive me, that I pain you thus, dear friend!-and yet, a few words more. Oh, my dear Horace! be watchful of yourself. We have all much need to pray against the deceitfulness of our own hearts. The world and its ways would cheat you, Horace ! for I know your heart. Oh, I have longed thus to pour out the fulness of mine-my whole spirit, if it might be-in one appeal to yours:" And, elevated by the solemnity of that appeal, and by the fervor of her enthusiasm, Millicent's voice became full and firm, though its tones were deep as if sent up from the bosom's inmost sanctuary, and her countenance was irradiated by more than earthly beauty, as, clasping her pale thin hands together, she looked up in Vernon's face, and slowly articulated, “Above all, my father's friend! mine own dear friend! so run the race that is yet before you, that, though mine is first finished, we may meet at last in the land where there shall be no more separation." The awful pathos of that affecting prayer, though it thrilled through the heart of Vernon, subdued his impatient spirit and agitated perves to solemn stillness. He attempted no audible answer - words would have been powerless to express his feelings; but Millicent felt and understood all the assurance she desired to receive, in the tears that moistened her clasped hands, as, taking them between his, he bent his face upon them in the long and profound silence that succeeded to his violent emotion. Horace Vernon laid his head that night upon the pillow by many degrees "a sadder and a wiser man" than he had arisen from it in the morning. But sleep came not to his eyelids, nor rest to his spirit, till utter exhaustion procured him towards morning a short interval of troubled slumber. Lady Octavia was not long in perceiving the decline, or rather cessation, of her influence over Vernon. But attributing his defection to resentment at the unguarded sentence which had escaped her in his presence on the perusal of Lady Jane's letter, she only read in it the indication of a more profound passion than she had yet felt certain of having inspired him with. ance. But even these combined forces had wellnigh experienced signal defeat, so entirely had Vernon's revived affection and reawakened fears for Millicent, and his bitterly compunctious feelings, engrossed every faculty of his soul, since that notable morning when the trifling incident of Lady Octavia's momentary incaution had been so influential in arousing him from his long illusion. Influential as it had been, however, in the first instance, by sending him forth in that mood of mortified and bitter feeling, which, rather than any worthier cause, had impelled his first hasty steps towards the longdeserted cottage; the better thoughts that, in his way thither, had gradually superseded his previous irritationhis short but startling conference with the good apothecary-and last, and above all, that affecting interview with Millicent, had so effaced all recollection of the paltry annoyance which had originally disturbed him, that it was first called to his recollection by the almost deprecating tenderness of Lady Octavia's voice and looks, when she found an opportunity of addressing him unobserved; and that was not very speedily obtained, for, except at the dinner hour, and some short portion of the after-evening conceded to Dr. Hartop's claims, Horace scarcely absented himself from the cottage for many days, after that which had so effectually aroused him from his long and culpaple infatuation. Before the little casement of Millicent's chamber was unclosed, he was looking up towards it as he paced the walk beneath with nervous impatience; and even his conscience-struck reluctance to Piqued at this discovery, Lady confront Nora, was overcome by his Octavia's heart was forthwith vehe- anxiety to obtain from her the first mently set on what would otherwise and most exact report of her gentle (in the near prospect of departure mistress. A painful surprise awaited from Sea Vale) have been a matter of Vernon the first morning he was thus comparative indifference to her-the early at the cottage. Long after the recovery of her former ascendency; little casement above had been partly and nothing daunted by first failures, opened, and he had seen Nora pass she worked at her purpose with all and repass before it, as if preparing to the energies of those great coöperating assist Millicent at her toilet, he had powers-woman's will and woman's awaited for some time in the gardenwit, supported by woman's persever- in the dear old arbor, and, lastly, But after a few days of condescending sweetness, fruitlessly expended in manœuvres to lure back the startled quarry, she began to suspect that whatever was the cause of Vernon's brusque retreat from her boudoir, and of his subsequent refroidissement, he was now detained from her by a return to his first allegiance, of which her ladyship had by no means calculated the possibility, while the light of her attractions still blazed in competition with the pale star of Millicent. in the little sitting-room, in expecta- awakened. And indeed his now tention of Miss Aboyne coming down to derly unremitting watchfulness of the breakfast. But finding, at length, drooping Millicent was soon rewarded that there were not even any symptoms by such a reviving brightness of spiof preparation for the morning meal, rit in her, as in a manner reflected ithe was driven to inquire the reason self outwardly on the fair and fragile of such unusual delay, and then learnt, frame, which at all times sympathised with a pang that wrung him to the but too faithfully with the fine essence heart's core, (for Nora spared not to it enshrined. It is true, Millicent speak home,) that, for some time past, herself replied only by a grateful Millicent had been too much enfeebled smile, or an evasive word—not always to rise at her accustomed hour, and uttered with a steady voice-to Vernow habitually took her breakfast in non's fond entreaties that she would bed. The emotion with which Ver- acknowledge herself to be regaining non listened to this startling corrobo- strength-that she would bless him ration of his fears, still trembled in with some assurance that might conthe tone of his voice as he hurriedly firm his sanguine hopes. But Mr. remarked, "Why, Nora! surely it Henderson's manner and replies were was not so long ago, that when I more decidedly encouraging. Even breakfasted here last"- -"Oh, no! Nora began to look less coldly, and Mr. Horace; not so long to be sure," by degrees more cheerfully, when he interrupted the faithful servant, with encountered her in his frequent visits; a look that spoke, and was meant to and at last, one evening as he was speak, keenest reproach; "not more leaving the cottage, she not only than a fortnight maybe, or perhaps vouchsafed to resume her old office of three weeks-no time at all-only peo- opening the garden gate for him, but ple may be dead and buried, and for- said, in a half cordial tone, as he was gotten too, you know, Mr. Horace, in passing, "Good night, Mr. Horace ! less than that. The last time you Keep a good heart, and all may end were to have breakfasted here, you well yet."—" Bless you! thank you! were so thoughtful as to tell Miss thank you! dear, dear, sweet, lovely Aboyne over night that you would Nora!" was Vernon's rapturous excome next morning; so the dear child clamation, as, dashing back the closing would rise, and make me dress her to gate, so as almost to upset his old friend, be ready for you-she was too ill he hugged her round the neck with then to dress herself, poor heart! such schoolboy vehemence of delight, though I told her it was ill spending as left her wellnigh breathless and half her precious life upon one that little indignant, though not quite unaccusdeserved it of her."-"Little indeed!" tomed in former days to such ebulligroaned Horace, as he turned abrupt- tions of his volatile spirits. ly from Nora and the cottage, to breakfast where and with what appetite he might. But Horace Vernon's versatile feelings and unstable nature, characteristics often leading to results as fatal as those consequent on the indulgence of violent and evil passions, were as easily elated as depressed; and, in truth, his mind was not so constituted as to be long capable of enduring or retaining a deeply painful impression. By degrees he deluded himself into the belief that he had been too seriously alarmed, though not too soon 27 ATHENEUM, VOL. 2, 3d series. Her rebuke (if she uttered one) was, however, quite lost on the offend er. Before she had time to set her cap straight, or smooth down her ruffled neck-kerchief, he was already half way to the Rectory, which he reentered that night in a frame of mind so overflowing with happiness, security, self-reconcilement, and universal benevolence, as reflected its own hues on all surrounding objects, animate and inanimate. Dr. Hartop was agreeable-Lady Octavia enchanting—all but her charms and obligingness forgotten or forgiven-(what was any |