fering at last softened the stern nature of Mr. Lyle, and opened
his eyes to the value of his child. He knew her devotion, her patient,
untiring attendance on him, and he felt what a blessed boon she had
been to him, and how illy he had merited so much loving kindness!

On one occasion he said:

"My daughter, I do not deserve such a blessing as you are to me. I
have been very harsh and relentless, and caused you much sorrow; would
that I could call back the past, and act differently. Heaven only
knows how grieved I am for my mistaken views and actions."

Going up, and putting her arms around him, she replied:

"Do not worry about the past, father dear, nor about your daughter.
Believe me, I am happy with you; and have no regrets. I would not be
absent from you during your suffering, even to be with him."

"Where is Ernest? Do you love him still?" he asked.

"I only know (through the papers) that he has been elected to
Congress. About my still loving him, depends entirely on whether I
have the right to do so; he may have given that to another," she
replied, and called to her beautiful lips a sweet smile, to try to
convince him, more than her words would, that she was content,
whate'er her lot should be.

It is a few weeks after the meeting of Congress. All Washington is on
the _qui vive_ about the passage of the ---- Bill, and the appeal to be
made in its favor by the new member from ----.

Constance Lyle stands before her mirror. More than usual care has she
bestowed on her toilet.

We will play eavesdropper, dear reader, just for once, and peep over
her shoulder, to view the changes time has made. No longer the fresh,
brilliant beauty of her youthful days. Constant confinement in the
sickroom, care, and anxiety have faded the roses that used to bloom on
her cheeks; but to us she is more charming, this pale beauty, with her
gentle dignity, and sweet, patient look, than the bright, merry girl
of years ago.

There is something about her which makes us think we would like ever
to be near her, side by side, to pass on life's pathway, feeling sure
her beauty would never wane, but wax purer and brighter as she neared
her journey's end. Listen! She says:

"How strange my birthday should be the one for his speech! This day I
shall see him for the first time for fifteen years. Yes, I am
thirty-three to-day, and this is the anniversary of our parting!"

Leaving her room she is soon by her father's side.

"I'll hav