y foolish words give you pain,
you whose love would, I know, seek to spare me every suffering. My brain
feels confused and burning now, and I know not what I say; but it will
pass away soon, and then I will try to be all you can wish. You will
not, I know you will not be so cruel as to bid me wed another, and that
knowledge is enough. Let but his character be cleared, and I promise you
I will use every effort to be content. I knew that it was hopeless. Why,
oh, why did I bid your lips confirm it!" and again were those aching
eyes and brow concealed on Mrs. Hamilton's shoulder, while the
despairing calmness of her voice sounded even more acutely painful to
her mother than the extreme suffering it had expressed before.

"May God in His mercy bless you for this, my darling girl!" escaped
almost involuntarily from Mrs. Hamilton's lips, as the sweet disposition
of her child appeared to shine forth brighter than ever in this complete
surrender of her dearest hopes to the will of her parents. "And oh, that
He may soothe and comfort you will mingle in your mother's prayers. Tell
me but one thing more, my own. Have you never heard from this young man
since you parted?"

"He wrote to me, imploring me to use my influence with St. Eval, to aid
his obtaining the situation of tutor to Lord Louis," answered Emmeline.
"He did not allude to what had passed between us; his letter merely
contained this entreaty, as if he would thus prove to me that his
intention to quit England, and seek for calmness in the steady
performance of active duties, was not mere profession."

"Then your representations were the origin of Eugene's interest in
Arthur?" said Mrs. Hamilton, inquiringly.

Emmeline answered in the affirmative.

"And did you answer his letter?"

"No, mamma; it was enough for me and for him, too, his wishes were
granted. I would not indulge my secret wish to do so. Neither you nor
papa, nor indeed any of my family, knew what had passed between us.
Determined as I was to struggle for the conquest of myself, I did not
imagine in keeping that secret I was acting undutifully; but had I
written to him, or cherished, as my weak fondness bade me do,
his--his--why should I hide it--his precious letter, my conscience would
have added its pangs to the sufferings already mine. While that was free
and light, I could still meet your look and smile, and return your kiss,
however I might feel my heart was breaking; but if I had so deceived
you