horrors of remorse; who have
never been haunted by the vision of a sweet face, drowned in tears,
whose look of affection was repelled by coldness and harshness. Ah, had
you known my dearly loved Agnes as I have; had you watched from infancy
each expanding grace, until she grew to be your heart's idol; had you
loved her with a love like mine"--

Arthur Bernard groaned involuntarily, but the old man unheeding went on.

"And then, because her pure mind could not be content to feed on the
husks of worldly vanity, and sought for more congenial nourishment,
banish her from your presence, for the very cause that should have
rendered her dear beyond all price, and that banishment to have such a
termination; to think that the wild salt waves should cover my darling,
that the winds should be her requiem, that I shall never hear that sweet
voice pronounce my forgiveness,--oh, it is too much, too much for human
nature to bear, though I deserve it all.

"Talk not to me, Arthur Bernard," and the invalid, in the energy of
passion, half-raised himself from the couch, "talk not to me, I beseech
you, of balm in Gilead, or of a Physician there; others, who have not
sinned as I have done, may find forgiveness, but as for me, unless the
treacherous sea restore my darling to my arms, there is never more peace
or comfort for me, but my gray hairs shall go down with sorrow to the
tomb."

He sank back exhausted by the violence of his emotions, and silence
reigned through the apartment for a few moments, its two occupants
seemingly absorbed in painful thought.

To Arthur the reflection of the almost certain destiny that had befallen
her who had, unconsciously to himself, shared so large a portion of his
affections, was indeed fraught with anguish; the void she had left he
felt, day by day, could never be replaced, and in reference to a passion
at once so absorbing and constant, he might well have adopted, as
embodying his own experience, the language of the poet:--

"It was life's whole emotion, a storm in its might,
'Twas deep as the ocean, and silent as night;
It swept down life's flowers, the fragile and fair,
The heart had no powers from passion to spare."

It is time, from her loss, he had learned lessons of purest wisdom; he
had sought and found the grace which he so truly exemplified in life and
conduct; nor had the oil and joy of heavenly consolation been denied
him, in the period of his sorest need; and though h