inarily deemed intrusive.
Yet it was less the matter than the manner of their dialogue--the deep,
unavowed fellow-feeling and mutual reliance--which rendered it so
refreshing and full of a kind of repose. Louis felt it like the
strange bright stillness, when birds sing their clearest, fullest
notes, and the horizon reach of sky beams with the softest, brightest
radiance, just ere it be closed out by the thunder-cloud, whose first
drops are pausing to descend; and to Mary it was peace--peace which she
was willing gratefully to taste to the utmost, from the instinctive
perception that the call had come for her to brace all her powers of
self-control and fortitude; while to the dear old aunt, besides her
enjoyment of her darling's presence, each hour was a boon that she
could believe the patient or the daughter, relieved and happy.

Louis was admitted for a few minutes' visit to the sick-chamber, and
went up believing that he ought to be playful and cheerful; but he was
nearly overcome by Mrs. Ponsonby's own brightness, as she hoped that
her daughter and aunt had made themselves agreeable.

'Thank you, I never was so comfortable, not even when my foot was bad.'

'I believe you consider that a great compliment.'

'Yes, I never was so much off my own mind, nor on other people's:' and
the recollection of all he owed to Mrs. Ponsonby's kindness rushing
over him, he looked so much affected, that Mary was afraid of his
giving way, and spoke of other matters; her mother responded, and he
came away quite reassured, and believing Mrs. Frost's augury that at
the next call, the invalid would be in the drawing-room.

On the way home, however, his father overthrew such hopes, and made him
aware of the true state of the case,--namely, that this was but the
lull before another attack, which, whether it came within weeks or
days, would probably be the last.

'Does Mary know?'

'She does. She bears up nobly.'

'And what is to become of her?'

The Earl sighed deeply. 'Lima is her destiny. Her mother is bent on
it, and says that she wishes it herself; but on one thing I am
resolved: she shall not go alone! I have told her mother that I will
go with her, and not leave her without seeing what kind of home that
man has for her. Mary--the mother, I mean--persists in declaring that
he has real affection for his child, and that her presence will save
him.'

'If anything could--' broke out Louis.

'It should! it ought; but I do