settled here, then I should care as little what became of me as I
suppose she would.'

The Earl was touched by the dreary, desponding tone of the reply, and
reported it to Louis and Clara with such terms, that Clara's decision
was made at once, namely, that it would be wrong and cruel to cast away
her uncle, and be swayed by James's prejudice; and Lord Ormersfield
told her with grave approval that she was quite right, and that he
hoped that James would recover from his unreasonable folly.

'Make Jem forgive me,' said Clara, faintly, as her announcement of her
purpose, when she finally sought her room, obliged to be thought meanly
of, rather than do ill, denying her fondest affections, cutting herself
off from all she loved, and, with but this consolation, that she was
doing as grandmamma would have bidden her. Oh, how her heart yearned
after home!

On the morrow, Clara sorrowed in her solitary chamber alone with
faithful Jane, who, amid her bursts of tears, felt the one
satisfaction, that her dear mistress had lived to be buried like the
stock she came of, and who counted the carriages and numbered the
scarfs, like so many additional tributes from the affection of her dear
Master Oliver.

Once on that day James was visibly startled from his heavy, stern mood
of compressed, indignant sorrow. It was as he advanced to the entrance
of the vault, and his eye was struck by a new and very handsome tablet
on the wall. It was to the father, mother, and young brother and
sisters, whose graves had been hastily made far away in the time of the
pestilence, the only Dynevors who did not lie in the tombs of their
fathers. For one moment James moved nearer to his uncle. Could he
have spoken then, what might not have followed? but it was impossible,
and the impulse passed away.

But he was kind when he hurried upstairs for a last embrace to Clara.
He still felt fondly, brotherly, and compassionate; and all the more,
because she had proved more weak against temptation than he had
expected. His farewell was, 'Good-bye, my poor Clara, God bless you.'

'Oh, thank you!' cried Clara, from the bottom of her heart. 'You
forgive me, James?'

'I forgive; I am sorry for you, my poor child. Mind, Dynevor Terrace
is still your home, if you do not find the happiness you expect in your
chosen lot.'

'Happiness!' but he had no time to hear. He was gone, while she sobbed
out her message of love for Isabel, and Louis ran up, pale with