ion?" Her extreme anguish
prevented a reply. Theodore endeavoured to console her, though
consolation was a stranger to his own breast.

"Let us not," said he, "increase our flood of affliction by a tide of
useless sorrow. Perhaps more prosperous days are yet in reserve for us;
happiness may yet be ours. Heaven cannot desert Alida," said Theodore;
"as well might it desert its angels. This thorny path may lead to fair
fields of light and verdure. Tempests are succeeded by calms; wars end
in peace; the splendours of the brightest morning arise on the wings of
blackest midnight. Troubles will not always last."

The grief which had almost overwhelmed Alida, now began to subside, as
the waves of the ocean gradually cease their tumultuous commotion after
the turbulent winds are laid asleep. Deep and long drawn sighs
succeeded. The irritation of her feelings had caused a more than usual
glow upon her cheek which faded away as she became composed, until a
livid paleness spread itself over her features.

Raymond and his lady now came into the room. They strenuously urged the
propriety and necessity for Theodore and Alida to enter into the bands
of matrimony.

"The measure would be hazardous," remarked Alida. "My circumstances,"
said Theodore. "Not on that account," interrupted Alida, "but the
displeasure of my father."

"Come here, Alida, to-morrow evening," said Mrs. Raymond. "In the mean
time you will consider the matter and then determine." To this Alida
assented and prepared to return home.

Theodore attended her as far as the gate which opened into the yard
surrounding the dwelling. It was dangerous for him to go further, lest
he should be discovered even by a domestic of the family. He stood here
awhile looking anxiously after Alida as she walked up the avenue, her
white robes now invisible, now dimly seen, until they were totally
obscured, mingling with the gloom and darkness of the night, ere she
reached the door of her father's mansion.

"Thus," said Theodore, "fades the angel of peace from the visionary eyes
of the war-worn soldier, when it ascends in the dusky clouds of early
morning, while he slumbers on the field of recent battle." With mournful
forebodings he returned to the house of his friend. After passing a
sleepless night, he arose and walked out into an adjoining field; he
stood for some time, leaning, in deep contemplation, against a tree,
when he heard quick footsteps behind him. He turned around, an