ore than a
kindly compassion for the wounded heart, consigned with no doubt of
the healing result to the fickleness of youth and the consolations of
philosophy. Not for a moment did the happier rival suspect that Kenelm's
love was returned; that an atom in the heart of the girl who had
promised to be his bride could take its light or shadow from any love
but his own. Yet, more from delicacy of respect to the rival so suddenly
self-betrayed than from any more prudential motive, he did not speak
even to Mrs. Cameron of Kenelm's secret and sorrow; and certainly
neither she nor Lily was disposed to ask any question that concerned the
departed visitor.

In fact the name of Kenelm Chillingly was scarcely, if at all, mentioned
in that household during the few days which elapsed before Walter
Melville quitted Grasmere for the banks of the Rhine, not to return till
the autumn, when his marriage with Lily was to take place. During
those days Lily was calm and seemingly cheerful; her manner towards
her betrothed, if more subdued, not less affectionate than of old.
Mrs. Cameron congratulated herself on having so successfully got rid of
Kenelm Chillingly.

CHAPTER VIII.

SO, then, but for that officious warning, uttered under the balcony
at Luscombe, Kenelm Chillingly might never have had a rival in Walter
Melville. But ill would any reader construe the character of Kenelm, did
he think that such a thought increased the bitterness of his sorrow.
No sorrow in the thought that a noble nature had been saved from the
temptation to a great sin.

The good man does good merely by living. And the good he does may often
mar the plans he formed for his own happiness. But he cannot regret that
Heaven has permitted him to do good.

What Kenelm did feel is perhaps best explained in the letter to Sir
Peter, which is here subjoined:--

"MY DEAREST FATHER,--Never till my dying day shall I forget that
tender desire for my happiness with which, overcoming all worldly
considerations, no matter at what disappointment to your own cherished
plans or ambition for the heir to your name and race, you sent me
away from your roof, these words ringing in my ear like the sound of
joy-bells, 'Choose as you will, with my blessing on your choice. I open
my heart to admit another child: your wife shall be my daughter.' It
is such an unspeakable comfort to me to recall those words now. Of all
human affections gratitude is surely the holiest; and it ble