hat he would not fight Allington; and now that all the world
has frowned upon him, _I_, too, have turned recreant, and cast him
off. Mother, speak to me no word of command or remonstrance. I will
never see Mr. Allington again; and I will this very hour go to Medwin,
and throw myself on my knees before him. Yes, we shall be happy!"

"My child, you are excited just now, and I beg you to wait until
morning. We will then talk the matter over calmly; and if you cannot
really be happy without Mr. Medwin, why, my child, I will not urge you
further. Come, dear girl, go to bed now, and to-morrow you will be
yourself again."

With gentle and soothing care--for the _mother_ was now all aroused in
the callous heart of this worldly woman, and bent every accent and
every motion into grace and kindness--Mrs. Harland at length succeeded
in calming the excitement of her child, and inducing her to consent to
wait until the next morning, when, if she wished, her mother said,
Medwin should be sent for. "I am sure, my child," she said, as she
kissed her and bid her good-night, "I have acted for the best, and
have nothing but your happiness in view."

And now she was alone; and leaving her bed, she leaned against the
window, while the shadowy curtain of evening, which falls in that
climate suddenly down from the sky, shut out the day, and seemed, at
the same moment, to shut the light from her heart. Then, with rapid
steps, her little feet paced the luxurious carpet of her apartment,
while her heart beat loudly and still more rapidly in her bosom. Again
she tried to rest, but the taper which she had lighted threw such
ghastly shadows upon the walls, which seemed to wave and beckon her,
that she leaped from the bed in agony, and almost screamed outright.
Hours passed slowly and sadly, and the short, sharp ringing of the
watchman's club upon the pavement beneath her window, mingled with the
chimes of the old cathedral clock as it struck midnight--and still the
poor frightened girl could neither sleep nor compose herself. Once,
indeed, she had fallen into a kind of slumber, curtained with such
horrid dreams as made it torture instead of rest. She saw her lover
with his bright eye turned sweetly upon her, as of old, and his
beautiful locks resting upon her shoulder, while she held his hand
upon her throbbing heart, and he whispered dear words and precious
sighs into her willing ear. But anon the paleness of death stole over
that manly brow--th