2, Chapter XXI.

A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE.

"Surely my heart would have told me, and the nature within me have
revolted from such a sense of passionate love, had his cruel, his base
words been true," said Brace Norton, as he stood one evening by Merland
Park palings, watching the lights fade one by one at the Castle; for the
hour was late, and, reckless and wretched, the young man had strolled
down from the Hall, to have his evening cigar, as he had told his
anxious-eyed mother, but really to take a last farewell of the casket
which contained his treasure.

"I cannot give her up, mother," he had said to her, sadly. "I am not
ashamed to tell you how dearly I love her, and shall continue to love
her, even while all hope is at an end for me. But I cannot help it. We
do not make ourselves. They talk of schooling, or ruling, one's heart,
but what poor idiot could first have said that! He must have been
heartless himself, and never have known what it is to love."

And what could Mrs Norton say? She could but recall the past, and the
long bitter years she herself had had before she enjoyed the fruition of
her love. She lamented, grieved for the unfortunate attachment, but her
heart yearned towards the sweet girl. All the old affection of her
nature which she had felt for the mother was now given freely to the
child. But she had never been made the receptacle of her son's full
confidence; there was one thing, one bitter sentence whispered--nay,
hissed in his ear, by Sir Murray Gernon, that the young man never again
suffered to pass his lips, as, after long battling with self, he felt
convinced it was untrue.

And now he leaned lingeringly upon those park railings, watching the
light, far distant as it was, that he believed to be that which shone
from Isa's chamber, till at last it was extinct, and it was like the
crushing out of hope from his aching breast. For what was his fate?
The next day must see him far away from Merland, leaving one whom he
knew to love him, at the mercy of father and favoured suitor. True,
there was the frequent sense of her sweet kiss, the dear confession of
the love of her pure young heart, yet upon his lip; but what would they
say to her--how would they impress her with the impossibility of a
union? With no friend and adviser but that true-hearted Jane McCray,
what could the poor girl do?

Brace Norton sighed--a sigh that was almost a groan, as he felt what
must be the end; and recallin