ar.

The answer came one day too late. Winston stood as if struck dumb. His
rage, his shame, his agony of vexation, he knew not how to express. And
indeed there was that convulsion in his throat which, if he had
attempted to speak, would have choked his utterance. But there was one
amongst the party who found words fit for the occasion, and quite
explanatory. In what she conceived the prettiest manner in the world,
Louisa Jackson laid her hand upon Winston's shoulder. She had heard
something of an invitation--"But, Alfred dear," she said, "you will not
surely dine out to-day!"

Mildred started at the tone of that address, telling as it did so
strange a history, so utterly unexpected. Then collecting herself, and
taking the arm of Miss Bloomfield, she expressed her regret, in some
words of course, that they could not have the pleasure of Mr. Winston's
company to dinner, and, curtseying slightly to the rest of the society,
withdrew.

What a drama had passed between them, and in silence! What feelings had
been hidden under those few words of formal and ceremonious speech!

No sooner had she left than Winston rushed into his own apartment.
Amongst the curiosities which he had collected in Italy was a genuine
stiletto. This had sometimes accompanied him in his solitary rambles;
and of late he had sometimes, in his moods of despondency, contemplated
that instrument, thinking the while of some other purpose than that of
striking a foe to which it might be applicable. They are dangerous
moments which we spend in reflecting on the mere possibility of some
fatal act. The imagination becomes familiarised with the deed. When the
fiery and ungovernable passion falls upon us, it finds the train ready
laid. Winston locked his door--ran to the stiletto--buried it in his
heart!

The horror and distraction of Louisa and her mother may be easily
imagined. It might be a subject of more deep and curious interest to
trace the influence of such a catastrophe on the mind of Mildred; but
this also we must leave to the reflection and perspicacity of the
reader. Mr. Bloomfield and his sister soon after left Italy, embarking
in the steam-boat direct for Marseilles: they had grown weary of travel.
Colonel Willoughby and his daughter Mildred took the route by land, and
quitted Naples for the north of Italy and the Alps.

* * * * *

THE EARLY TAKEN.

The idea embodied in the following verses is the sub