heavy, frowning brow. It was not only that he felt her place
could never be filled again--many feel that, and find it turn out
so--but a part of his being was gone: all that was soft, and kind, and
tender in his nature died with Caroline Mannering. He never could get
rid of a certain chivalry which was inherent in him, so sometimes he
would do a generous thing; but he did it so harshly as to deprive the
act of the semblance of good-nature. I think he very seldom again felt
sympathy or compassion for any living creature. Perhaps he thought the
world had behaved hardly to his dead love, and so never forgave it. She
passed away very stilly and painlessly. She was leaning on his breast
when he saw death come into her eyes: he shivered then all over, as if a
cold wind had struck him suddenly, but spoke no word. She understood
him, though. Her last motion was to draw his cheek down to hers with her
thin, shadowy arm, and her last breath went up to the God who would
judge them both in an unselfish prayer.

"She was rightly served," says Cornelia; "such women ought to be
miserable."

O rigid mother of the Gracchi! how we all respect you, _tronante_ in the
comfortable cathedra of virtue inexpugnable, perhaps unassailed. Your
dictum must stand for the present. The court is with you. But I believe
other balances will weigh the strength of temptation, the weakness of
human endurance, the sincerity of repentance, and the extent of suffered
retribution, when the Father of all that have lived and erred since the
world began shall make up His jewels. In that day, I think, the light of
many orthodox virgins and dignified matrons will pale before the softer
lustre of Magdalene the Saint.

Mohun remained in the Austrian service some time after Caroline
Mannering's death, and, by dint of good service and interest, rose
rapidly; but, about eight years before I saw him, a distant relation
left him the estate in the west of Ireland, where he had resided ever
since, making occasional visits to the Continent, and beating up his old
quarters, but rarely coming to England.

He did not mix much with the county society, such as it was; and his
visitors were chiefly friends from England who had not forgotten him
yet, or the military quartered in his neighborhood.

It was a dreary, desolate old house where he lived--massive, square, and
gray. There were wooded banks and hollows just round it; but farther
afield the chill, bare moorland stretched