both their minds, on the next morning, to produce
thoughtfulness and reserve. The night to each had been restless and
wakeful; and in the snatches of sleep which came at weary intervals
were dreams that brought no tranquillizing influence.

The mother's daily duty, entered into from love to her children,
soon lifted her mind into a sunnier region, and calmed her pulse to
an even stroke. But the spirit of Markland was more disturbed, more
restless, more dissatisfied with himself and every thing around him,
than when first introduced to the reader's acquaintance. He eat
sparingly at the breakfast-table, and with only a slight relish. A
little forced conversation took place between him and his wife; but
the thoughts of both were remote from the subject introduced. After
breakfast, Mr. Markland strolled over his handsome grounds, and
endeavoured to awaken in his mind a new interest in what possessed
so much of real beauty. But the effort was fruitless; his thoughts
were away from the scenes in which he was actually present. Like a
dreamy enthusiast on the sea-shore, he saw, afar off, enchanted
Islands faintly pictured on the misty horizon, and could not
withdraw his gaze from their ideal loveliness.

A little way from the house was a grove, in the midst of which a
fountain threw upward its refreshing waters, that fell plashing into
a marble basin, and then went gurgling musically along over shining
pebbles. How often, with his gentle partner by his side, had
Markland lingered here, drinking in delight from every fair object
by which they were surrounded! Now he wandered amid its cool
recesses, or sat by the fountain, without having even a faint
picture of the scene mirrored in his thoughts. It was true, as he
had said, "Beauty had faded from the landscape; the air was no
longer balmy with odours; the birds sang for his ears no more; he
heard not, as of old, the wind-spirits whispering to each other in
the tree-tops;" and he sighed deeply as a half-consciousness of the
change disturbed his reverie. A footfall reached his ears, and,
looking up, he saw a neighbour approaching: a man somewhat past the
prime of life, who came toward him with a familiar smile, and, as he
offered his hand, said pleasantly--

"Good morning, Friend Markland."

"Ah! good morning, Mr. Allison," was returned with a forced
cheerfulness; "I am happy to meet you."

"And happy always, I may be permitted to hope," said Mr. Allison, as
his mild yet in