you changed, Godfrey? Why should my love remain like
a covered fire, consuming my heart to ashes, and making me a prey to
tormenting doubts and fears, while you are unmoved by my anguish, and
contented in my absence?"

"You attribute that to indifference, which is but the effect of
circumstances," returned Godfrey, somewhat embarrassed by her
importunities. "Perhaps, Mary, you are not aware that the death of my
father has left me a poor and ruined man?"

"What difference can that possibly make in our love for each other?" And
Mary's eyes brightened through a cloud of tears. "I rejoice in your loss
of fortune, for it has made us equals."

"Not quite!" cried the young man, throwing her from him, as if stung by
an adder. "Birth, education, the prejudices of society, have placed an
eternal barrier between us. Impoverished though I be, I never can so far
forget myself as to mate with a vulgar peasant!"

"Say that word again--that word of misery!" cried the unhappy girl,
clinging to his arm. "Recall your many promises--the awful oath you
swore on that fatal night, when I first yielded to temptation, when you
solemnly declared, in the name of Almighty God, that the moment you were
your own master, you would make me your wife."

"Mary," said Godfrey, sternly, "do not deceive yourself--I never will
make you my wife!"

"Then God forgive you, and grant me patience to bear my wrongs!"
murmured the poor girl, as she sunk down upon the ground, and buried her
face in the dewy grass; while her heartless seducer continued his
solitary walk to the Lodge.

CHAPTER XIV.

My mind is like a vessel tossed at sea
By winds and waves--her helm and compass lost;
No friendly hand to guide her o'er the waste,
Or point to rocks and shoals that yawn beneath.--S.M.

The day after his uncle's funeral, as Anthony sat alone in the good
rector's study, pondering over his recent loss, painfully alive to his
present condition, and the uncertainty of his future prospects, he was
informed by the servant that a gentleman wished to see him.

Since Algernon's death, he and Godfrey had not met except at the
funeral, in which they had assisted as chief mourners. He was very
anxious to speak to his cousin, and consult with him about their private
affairs; and he obeyed the summons with alacrity. Instead of the person
whom he expected to see, a well-dressed intelligent-looking young man
advanced to meet him.

"Mr. Anthony Hurd