prospects in life that he felt to be rather agreeable. Here was his
brother, whom he had kindly sent to apologize to Grace Davoren for
the impossibility from illness of his meeting her according to their
previous arrangement; yes, we say he feigned illness on that evening,
and prevailed on the unsuspecting young man to go in his stead, in
order, as he said, to give her the necessary explanations for his
absence. Charles undertook this mission the more willingly, as it was
his firm intention to remonstrate with the girl on the impropriety of
her conduct, in continuing a secret and guilty intrigue, which must end
only in her own shame and ruin. But when Harry deputed him upon such a
message he anticipated the very event which had occurred, or, rather,
a more fatal one still, for, despite his hopes of Alice Goodwin's ill
state of health, he entertained strong apprehensions that his stepfather
might, by some accidental piece of intelligence, be restored to his
original impressions on the relative position in which she and Charles
stood. An interview between Mr. Lindsay and her might cancel all he had
done; and if every obstruction which he had endeavored to place between
their union were removed, her health might recover, their marriage take
place, and then what became of his chance for the property? It is
true he had managed his plans and speculations with great ability.
Substituting Charles, like a villain as he was, in his own affair with
Grace Davoren, he contrived to corroborate the falsehood by the tragic
incident of the preceding night. Now, if this would not satisfy Alice
of the truth of his own falsehood, nothing could. That Charles was
the _intrigant_ must be clear and palpable from what had happened, and
accordingly, after taking a serious review of his own iniquity, he felt,
as we said, peculiarly gratified with his prospects. Still, it cannot be
denied that an occasional shadow, not proceeding from any consciousness
of guilt, but from an apprehension of disappointment, would cast its
deep gloom across his spirit. With such terrible states of feeling the
machinations of guilt, no matter how successful its progress may be,
are from time to time attended; and even in his case the torments of the
damned were little short of what he suffered, from a dread of failure,
and its natural consequences--an exposure which would bar him out of
society. Still, his earnest expectation was that the intelligence of
the fate of her