w from the pursuits on which he
had lately determined, but his pride forbade him to relinquish them, and
when once they had been commenced, finding in mental occupation his
Lethe, he abandoned himself to them with all his accustomed ardor.

Two years passed away with Edward Houstoun in the most intense
intellectual action, and in death-like torpor of the affections. From
the last his mother might have saved him, had not her want of sympathy
with his pursuits occasioned a barrier of reserve and coolness to arise
between them fatal to her influence. During this time no token of Lucy's
existence had reached him: and it was with such a thrill as might have
welcomed a visitant from the dead, that, one morning as he left his own
house to proceed to the office in which he pursued his studies, he saw
before him at some distance, yet without any intervening object to
interrupt his view of her, a form and face resembling hers, though
thinner and paler. The lady was approaching him, with slow and languid
steps; but as her eyes were fixed upon the ground she did not perceive
him, and just as his throbbing heart exclaimed, "It is Lucy," and he
sprang forward to greet her, she entered a house and the door closed on
her. The inmates of that house were but slightly known to him, as they
had only lately moved into the street, yet he hesitated not an instant
in ringing the bell, and inquiring of the servant who presented himself
at the door, for Miss Watson.

"Miss Watson, sir?" repeated the man, "there is no such person living
here."

"She may not live here, but I saw her enter your door, and I wish to
speak to her." At this moment Lucy crossed the hall at its further end,
and he sprang forward, exclaiming "Lucy--Miss Watson--thank Heaven I see
you once more!"

A slight scream from Lucy, and the tremor which shook her frame, showed
her recognition of him. She leaned for an instant against the wall, too
faint for speech or action, while he clasped her hand in his; but a
voice broke in upon his raptures and her agitation--a sharp, angry
voice, coming from a lady who, leaning over the balustrade of the
stairs, had seen and heard all that was passing below.

"Lucy--Lucy--come up here--I am waiting for you--this is certainly very
extraordinary conduct--very extraordinary indeed."

"You shall not go," said Edward Houstoun, while the red blood flushed to
his brow at the thought that his Lucy could be thus ordered. Lucy's face
glowed too