leaving London in this hot weather. The country will
be delightful. I suppose it was at your desire that this
arrangement was made?"

"No," I answered; "it was an agreeable surprise to me. I was
not aware till to-day that my uncle knew Mrs. Moore so well,
nor that she had a villa at Hampstead, nor that I was likely
to see Rosa again so soon; and delighted I shall be to see her
again."

"Oh, she is charming," answered Henry, in the same indifferent
manner; "I always told you so. I wonder if you will have
anything of a party. You will meet Edward there, I suppose; I
saw him for a moment this morning, and he said he was going to
the play with the Moores to-night."

He turned away, and whispered something to Mrs. Middleton
which made her smile and answer, "It would do very well."

If there is in the varied range of human feelings one of pain,
which in its mere _sensation_ resembles joy, it is that of
pouncing, if one may say so, on something tangible when the
mind has been racked by a vague jealousy. It is like the
relief which we feel when, after anger and indignation have
been for some time smouldering in our breasts, at length they
burst all barriers and find vent in words. At once I
remembered that Rosa was, as Henry had said, charming--that
she had a good fortune--that she was the most likely person in
the world for Edward to admire, and for my uncle to approve
of; and that very evening he was with her, with them all; he
had preferred their society to ours; it was _sure_--it was
hopeless--it was _too late_. Too late! that cry of bitter
regret, or of agonized despair, whether it comes from the lips
of those who lose all that makes to them life worth having, or
from those from whose trembling grasp that same mysterious
thing called life is escaping. It was too late to
struggle--too soon to submit. Oh, that I had run all
hazards--accepted all chances--braved all dangers but the one
of losing him! If I had ever told him of my love--if I had
revealed to him the depths of passionate affection which those
only feel who love in spite of all that should make them tremble
and despair! If I had done this but once, he might have forsaken
me, scorned me, abandoned me, but he never would have forgotten
me. Other eyes would have seemed to him without light--other
smiles without brightness; in their tame affection, in their
common-place regard, he would have missed what my proud heart
and my eager spirit yielded him; all its