us, Mary. She did not tell
Jane the cause of her vexation, but only said she "verily hated
Brandon," and that, of course, was the key to the whole situation.

After a fortnight, this ill-humor began to soften in the glowing
warmth of her heart, which was striving to reassert itself, and the
desire to see Brandon began to get the better of her sense of injury.

Brandon, tired of this everlasting watchfulness to keep himself out of
temptation, and, dreading at any moment that lapse from strength which
is apt to come to the strongest of us, had resolved to quit his place
at court and go to New Spain at once. He had learned, upon inquiry,
that a ship would sail from Bristol in about twenty days, and another
six weeks later. So he chose the former and was making his
arrangements to leave as soon as possible.

He told me of his plans and spoke of his situation: "You know the
reason for my going," he said, "even if I have never spoken of it. I
am not much of a Joseph, and am very little given to running away from
a beautiful woman, but in this case I am fleeing from death itself.
And to think what a heaven it would be. You are right, Caskoden; no
man can withstand the light of that girl's smile. I am unable to tell
how I feel toward her. It sometimes seems that I can not live another
hour without seeing her; yet, thank God, I have reason enough left to
know that every sight of her only adds to an already incurable malady.
What will it be when she is the wife of the king of France? Does it
not look as if wild life in New Spain is my only chance?"

I assented as we joined hands, and our eyes were moist as I told him
how I should miss him more than anyone else in all the earth--excepting
Jane, in mental reservation.

I told Jane what Brandon was about to do, knowing full well she would
tell Mary; which she did at once.

Poor Mary! The sighs began to come now, and such small vestiges of her
ill-humor toward Brandon as still remained were frightened off in a
hurry by the fear that she had seen the last of him.

She had not before fully known that she loved him. She knew he was the
most delightful companion she had ever met, and that there was an
exhilaration about his presence which almost intoxicated her and made
life an ecstasy, yet she did not know it was love. It needed but the
thought that she was about to lose him to make her know her malady,
and meet it face to face.

Upon the evening when Mary learned all this, she