at least till I have gone in, and consulted or prepared her."

"As you will, my gentlest, kindest cousin; I know your prudence and
affection. I leave you to obtain me this interview; you can, and will, I
am convinced."

"Do not be sanguine, Walter. I can only promise to use my best
endeavours," answered Ellinor, blushing as he kissed her hand; and,
hurrying up the walk, she disappeared within the house.

Walter walked for some moments about the alley in which Ellinor had left
him, but growing impatient, he at length wound through the overhanging
trees, and the house stood immediately before him,--the moonlight
shining full on the window-panes, and sleeping in quiet shadow over the
green turf in front. He approached yet nearer, and through one of the
windows, by a single light in the room, he saw Ellinor leaning over a
couch, on which a form reclined, that his heart, rather than his sight,
told him was his once-adored Madeline. He stopped, and his breath
heaved thick;--he thought of their common home at Grassdale--of the old
Manor-house--of the little parlour with the woodbine at its casement--of
the group within, once so happy and light-hearted, of which he had
formerly made the one most buoyant, and not least-loved. And now this
strange--this desolate house--himself estranged from all once
regarding him,--(and those broken-hearted,)--this night ushering what
a morrow!--he groaned almost aloud, and retreated once more into the
shadow of the trees. In a few minutes the door at the right of the
building opened, and Ellinor came forth with a quick step.

"Come in, dear Walter," said she; "Madeline has consented to see
you--nay, when I told her you were here, and desired an interview, she
paused but for one instant, and then begged me to admit you."

"God bless her!" said poor Walter, drawing his hand across his eyes, and
following Ellinor to the door.

"You will find her greatly changed!" whispered Ellinor, as they gained
the outer hall; "be prepared!"

Walter did not reply, save by an expressive gesture; and Ellinor led him
into a room, which communicated, by one of those glass doors often to be
seen in the old-fashioned houses of country towns, with the one in
which he had previously seen Madeline. With a noiseless step, and almost
holding his breath, he followed his fair guide through this apartment,
and he now stood by the couch on which Madeline still reclined. She held
out her hand to him--he pressed it to hi