n his common tone and manner. But for his ease and
steadiness in small talk, she should suppose he was striving to have her
left unnoticed, to look down into the water as strenuously as she
pleased. She little knew what a training he had had in wearing his
usual manner while his heart was wretched.

"There, now!" cried Fanny, "we have passed the place--the place where
cousin Margaret fell in last winter. We wanted to have gone directly
over it."

Margaret looked up, and caught Sydney's awe-struck glance. He had not
yet recovered from that day.

"If you had mentioned it sooner," said Margaret, "I could have shown you
the very place. We did pass directly over it."

"Oh, why did you not tell us? You should have told us."

Dr Levitt smiled as he remarked that he thought Miss Ibbotson was
likely to be the last person to point out that spot to other people, as
well as to forget it herself. Margaret had indeed been far from
forgetting it. She had looked down into its depths, and had brought
thence something that had been useful to her--something on which she was
meditating when Fanny spoke. She had been saved, and doubtless for a
purpose. If it was only to suffer for her own part, and to find no rest
and peace but in devoting herself to others--this was a high purpose.
Maria could live, and was thankful to live, without home, or family, or
prospect. But it was not certain that this was all that was to be done
and enjoyed in life. Something dreadful had happened: but Philip loved
her: he still loved her--for nothing but agonised love could have
inspired the glance which yet thrilled through her. There was some
mistake--some fearful mistake; and the want of confidence in her which
it revealed--the fault of temper in him--opened a long perspective of
misery; but yet, he loved her, and all was not over. At times she felt
certain that Mrs Rowland was at the bottom of this new injury: but it
was inconceivable that Philip should be deluded by her, after his
warnings, and his jealous fears lest his Margaret should give heed to
any of his sister's misrepresentations. No light shone upon the
question, from the cloudy sky above, or the clear waters beneath; but
both yielded comfort through that gentle law by which things eminently
real--Providence, the mercy of death, and the blessing of godlike life,
are presented or prophesied to the spirit by the shadows amidst which we
live. When Margaret spoke, there was a calmn