e
of these harassing thoughts. The note was from Henry, to tell
his sister that Alice was poorly, and would be glad to see
herself or me.

"Shall you go?" I asked.

"Will you, my love?" she answered. "I expect my father at
twelve, and your visit will, I have no doubt, be more
acceptable to Alice than mine."

"Is the carriage at the door?" I inquired, and, having
ascertained that it was, I ran up-stairs to put on my bonnet.

On my way down, I opened the door of the breakfast-room, to
see if Edward was gone. He was alone; and as I came in, he
said, "Are you going to see Mrs. Lovell?"

"Yes; she is not well, I hear, and wishes to see me."

"Do you like her as much as you once told me that you did?"

"I do like her, and admire her, as you would too, if you knew
her. Oh, how you would approve of her! she is so unlike me!" I
added, with a deep sigh.

Edward coloured, and said, "Is she happy with Henry?"

"I do not exactly know if she is happy with him; happy at
least in the sense which I attach to the word; but I do know
that I ardently wish her to be so, and there is truth in
_this_, Edward."

"I believe you," he answered, and held out his hand to me; "I
believe you in spite of myself." He hesitated, and seemed to
wish to say something more, but just at that moment my uncle
called him from the next room; again pressing my hand, he took
leave of me, and I got into the carriage, and drove off to
-- street.

CHAPTER XII.

When I behold a genius bright and base,
Of towering talents, and terrestrial alms,
Methinks I see, as thrown from her high sphere,
The glorious fragments of a soul immortal
With rubbish mixed, and glittering in the dust.

YOUNG'S NIGHT THOUGHTS.

When I arrived, and was shown into the drawing-room, I found,
for the first time, Alice and Henry sitting together; she was
looking very pale, and her head was resting on her hand; but
when I came in, she smiled, and asked me to sit by her. She
said her head ached very much, but that it did not signify; it
would be better soon.

I advised her not to keep near her a large nosegay of lilacs
and seringa, the odour of which was overpowering.

"I do not think they hurt me," she said; "and it was so kind
of him" (looking at Henry) "to get them for me this morning,
that it is a pleasure to look at them."

He coloured slightly, as she said this; and taking the jug in
which they were, he carried it to the open window.

"I wa