t few chapters of my unfinished romance! Again I looked on
the patiently-laboured pages, familiar relics of that earliest and best
ambition which I had abandoned for love; too faithful records of the
tranquil, ennobling pleasures which I had lost for ever! Oh, for one
Thought-Flower now, from the dream-garden of the happy Past!

"I took more care of those leaves of writing, after you had thrown them
aside, than of anything else I had," said Clara. "I always thought the
time would come, when you would return again to the occupation which it
was once your greatest pleasure to pursue, and my greatest pleasure to
watch. And surely that time has arrived. I am certain, Basil, your book
will help you to wait patiently for happier times, as nothing else can.
This place must seem very strange and lonely; but the sight of those
pages, and the sight of me sometimes (when I can come), may make it look
almost like home to you! The room is not--not very--"

She stopped suddenly. I saw her lip tremble, and her eyes grow dim
again, as she looked round her. When I tried to speak all the
gratitude I felt, she turned away quickly, and began to busy herself
in re-arranging the wretched furniture; in setting in order the glaring
ornaments on the chimney-piece; in hiding the holes in the ragged
window-curtains; in changing, as far as she could, all the tawdry
discomfort of my one miserable little room. She was still absorbed in
this occupation, when the church-clocks of the neighbourhood struck the
hour--the hour that warned her to stay no longer.

"I must go," she said; "it is later than I thought. Don't be afraid
about my getting home: old Martha came here with me, and is waiting
downstairs to go back (you know we can trust her). Write to me as often
as you can; I shall hear about you every day, from Ralph; but I should
like a letter sometimes, as well. Be as hopeful and as patient yourself,
dear, under misfortune, as you wish me to be; and I shall despair of
nothing. Don't tell Ralph I have been here--he might be angry. I will
come again, the first opportunity. Good-bye, Basil! Let us try and part
happily, in the hope of better days. Good-bye, dear--good-bye, only for
the present!"

Her self-possession nearly failed her, as she kissed me, and then turned
to the door. She just signed to me not to follow her down-stairs, and,
without looking round again, hurried from the room.

It was well for the preservation of our secret, that she ha