y
mother's grave, dear Lilla, you will visit that sometimes, will you not?
and not permit a weed to mingle with the flowers Arthur planted around
it after we left, to distinguish it, he said, from every other grave. It
shall be your charge, dearest Lilla, and Edward and I will thank you for
it; he never goes to Llangwillan without passing an hour of each day by
that little humble mound."

"Edward, does he ever come to Llangwillan?" Lilla suddenly asked, her
tears checked, and every feature expressive of such animated hope, that
Ellen looked at her for a moment in astonishment, and then smilingly
answered in the affirmative. Lilla clasped her hands in sudden joy, and
then, as if ashamed, hid her face, burning with blushes, on Ellen's
hand. Her companion stooped down to kiss her brow, and continued talking
of her brother for some time longer.

From that day Ellen observed Lilla regained her usual animation, her eye
sparkled, and her cheek often flushed, as if from some secret thought;
her spirits only fell at the hour of parting, and Ellen felt assured
they would quickly rise again, and the first packet she received from
Llangwillan confirmed the supposition. Mrs. Hamilton was surprised, but
Ellen was not.

Preparations were now actively making for Herbert's visit to France,
thence to bring home his betrothed. His father and Percy had both
resolved on accompanying him, and Mrs. Hamilton and Emmeline and Arthur
anxiously anticipated the return of their long-absent friends.

A longer time than usual had elapsed between Mary's letters, and
Herbert's anxiety was becoming more and more intense. Two or three of
his letters had remained unanswered; there were no tidings of either
herself or her mother. St. Eval had determined on not visiting Paris
till his return from Switzerland, as his solicitude to arrive at his
journey's end, and commence the prescribed remedies for Caroline would,
he was quite sure, destroy all his pleasure. In vain his wife laughed at
his hurry and his fears; much as he wished to see Mary, he was
determined, and Caroline no farther opposed him. Through them, then,
Herbert could receive no tidings; he had not heard since that event,
which he believed would have been as much joy to Mary as to
himself--his ordination. He struggled with his own anxiety that the
intervening obstacles to his journey should not deprive him of serenity
and trust, but the inward fever was ravaging within. Only one short
week,