give.'

The tender, impulsive, overhasty spirit had wrought for itself some of
the trials that had chastened and perfected it, even while breaking
down the earthly tabernacle, so as to set free the weary soul, to enter
into Rest!

CHAPTER XIX.

MOONSHINE.

He talked of daggers and of darts,
Of passions and of pains,
Of weeping eyes and wounded hearts,
Of kisses and of chains:
But still the lady shook her head,
And swore by yea and nay,
My whole was all that he had said,
And all that he could say.
W. MACKWORTH PRAED.

Mary's strength gave way. She was calm and self-possessed as ever, she
saw Lord Ormersfield, wrote to her aunt, made all necessary
arrangements, and, after the funeral, moved to Mrs. Frost's house. But,
though not actually ill, she was incapable of exertion, could not walk
up stairs without fatigue; and after writing a letter, or looking over
papers, Aunt Catharine would find her leaning back, so wan and
exhausted, that she could not resist being laid down to rest on the
sofa.

She shrank from seeing any fresh face, and the effort of talking to the
Earl resulted in such weariness and quiet depression, that Mrs. Frost
dared not press her to admit any one else, except Louis, who rode to
the Terrace almost every day; but when the kind aunt, believing there
must be solace in the sight of her boy, begged to bring him in, Mary
answered, with unusual vehemence, 'Pray don't: tell him I cannot see
any one.' And when Mrs. Frost returned from a sorrowful talk with
Louis, she believed that Mary had been weeping.

Louis was sad enough. Out of the few friends of his childhood he could
ill afford to lose one, and he grieved much for his father, to whom the
loss was very great. The Earl strove, in his old fashion, to stifle
sorrow in letters of business, but could not succeed: the result was,
that he would discuss the one, Mary's past, and the other, Mary's
future, till time waxed so short that he gladly accepted his son's
assistance. Conversations with Richardson and orders to Frampton
devolved on Louis, and the desire to do no mischief caused him to
employ his intellect in acquiring a new habit of attention and accuracy.

His reverence for Mary was doubled, and he was much concerned at his
exclusion, attributing it to his mistimed proposals, and becoming
sensible that he had acted boyishly and without due respect. With a
longing desire to do anythi