father; but I wish
it might have been carried out with more honor to ourselves. Since De
Courcy's death I have begun to appreciate our neighbors: I was resigned
to become one of these people had our luck gone the other way. Will they
give us any credit for goodness and truth, I wonder? Yes, in mother's
case, and Alice's; and I believe both of them would give up Dunleigh
Castle for this little farm."

"Then," her father exclaimed, "it IS time that we should return, and
without delay. But thee wrongs us somewhat, Sylvia: it has not all been
masquerading. We have become the servants, rather than the masters, of
our own parts, and shall live a painful and divided life until we get
back in our old place. I fear me it will always be divided for thee,
wife, and Alice and Henry. If I am subdued by the element which I only
meant to assume, how much more deeply must it have wrought in your
natures! Yes, Sylvia is right, we must get away at once. To-morrow we
must leave Londongrove forever!"

He had scarcely spoken, when a new surprise fell upon the family.
Joel Bradbury arose and walked forward, as if thrust by an emotion so
powerful that it transformed his whole being. He seemed to forget every
thing but Alice Donnelly's presence. His soft brown eyes were fixed on
her face with an expression of unutterable tenderness and longing. He
caught her by the hands. "Alice, O, Alice!" burst from his lips; "you
are not going to leave me?"

The flush in the girl's sweet face faded into a deadly paleness. A
moan came from her lips; her head dropped, and she would have fallen,
swooning, from the chair had not Joel knelt at her feet and caught her
upon his breast.

For a moment there was silence in the room.

Presently, Sylvia, all her haughtiness gone, knelt beside the young man,
and took her sister from his arms. "Joel, my poor, dear friend," she
said, "I am sorry that the last, worst mischief we have done must fall
upon you."

Joel covered his face with his hands, and convulsively uttered the
words, "MUST she go?"

Then Henry Donnelly--or, rather, Lord Dunleigh, as we must now call
him--took the young man's hand. He was profoundly moved; his strong
voice trembled, and his words came slowly. "I will not appeal to thy
heart, Joel," he said, "for it would not hear me now.

"But thou hast heard all our story, and knowest that we must leave these
parts, never to return. We belong to another station and another mode of
life than yours