s now convinced that Helen's affection for me was not what it had
been; and after a short interview with her, in which she had again
repeated her love for me, but in such chilling tones that I felt it
was not from the heart she spoke, I sought the chamber of my brother
in a state almost bordering on madness. All of our race have been of
ungovernable passions, but none more so than myself. I paused at his
door to regain in some degree my self-command, then lifting the latch,
I entered.

"Ah, brother!" said Sir John, in a cheerful tone.

"Yes, your younger brother," replied I, bitterly.

Sir John started with wonder.

"Why, William, what mean you?"

I paid no heed to the interruption, but continued growing, if
possible, still more enraged as I proceeded.

"Are not all the broad lands of our family estate yours--its parks,
its meadows, its streams; this venerable mansion, where the _elder
son_ has rioted for so many generations, leaving the younger to make
his way in the world as best he may."

"Brother, are you mad? My purse is yours--I have nothing that is not
yours."

"You have every thing, and not content with that, you have sought to
win away the love of my affianced bride."

"Who mean you, William?"

"Helen Burnett."

My brother turned pale, and gazing upon me for a moment with
astonishment, he heaved a deep sigh, and covered his face with his
hands.

I folded my arms, and stood looking upon him scornfully, for my
passion had made me consider him in the light of one who had knowingly
stolen away my bride.

Sir John at length uncovered his face and spoke.

"I would to God, William, you had told me this sooner."

"Is it then too late?" I inquired, bitterly.

"Too late--too late for my happiness, but not too late for justice and
honor. She is yours, William, I resign all pretensions to her hand,
and will cease to visit the parsonage."

I was touched by the generous spirit of my brother, and by the
mournful shadow which clouded his noble brow. I have ever acted from
impulse, and seizing him by the hand, I said,

"Not so, John--not so! She is, as I have told you, my affianced bride;
her solemn and oft-repeated vows are mine, and I have thought that her
love was forever mine; but this very night I plainly perceived that a
change has been wrought in her feelings. She treated me with coldness
instead of warmth, and maddened by my interview with her, I rushed
into your presence, and have blamed you un