--whether reverence, perfect confidence, and unqualified
admiration would follow in the footsteps of mere affection. He
neither argued, nor trifled, nor deceived himself, but bravely
confessed to his own true soul, that, for the first time in his
life, he loved warmly and tenderly the only woman whose touch had
power to stir his quiet, steady pulses.

He had not intended to surrender his affections to the custody of any
one until reason and judgment had analyzed, weighed, and cordially
endorsed the wisdom of his choice; and now, although surprised at the
rashness with which his heart, hitherto so tractable and docile,
vehemently declared allegiance to a new sovereign, he did not attempt
to mask or varnish the truth. Thoroughly comprehending the fact that
it was neither friendship nor compassion, he gravely looked the new
feeling in the face, and acknowledged it,--the tyrant which sooner or
later wields the sceptre in every human heart.

Had he faithfully kept his compact with himself, and followed the
injunction of Joubert, "Choose for a wife only the woman, whom, were
she a man, you would choose for your friend"?

Because he found a fascination in her society, should he conclude that
it was a healthful atmosphere for his sturdy, exacting, uncompromising
nature?

To-day he swept aside all these protests and questions, postponing the
arraignment of his heart before the tribunal of slighted and indignant
reason, and allowed the newly mitred pontiff to lead him whither she
chose.

Unconscious of the emotions that brought an unusual glow to his
face and light to his eyes, Mrs. Gerome had dropped her head once
more on her arms, and the weary, despairing expression of her
countenance, as she looked at the gilded horizon, where sea and sky
seemed divided only by a belt of liquid gold,--might have served for
the face of some careless Vestal, who, having allowed the fire to
expire on the altar she had sworn to guard sleeplessly, sat hopeless,
desolate, and doomed,--watching from the dim, cheerless temple of
Hestia, the advent of that sun whose rays alone could rekindle the
sacred flame, and which, ere its setting, would witness the
execution of her punishment.

Dr. Grey bent over her, and said,--

"I came here in quest of you, hoping to persuade you to return to the
house."

"No. You came to tell me that Elsie is dead. You came to break the
news as gently as possible,--and to pity and try to comfort me. You
are very