th a trembling voice.

Henry was silent; he knew not what to say, and without another word
passing between them, they drove home.

On reaching her room, Gertrude buried her face in her handkerchief
and wept. She loved Henry, and when she had heard from the lips of her
companions how their husbands had proved false, she felt that he was an
exception, and fervently thanked God that she had been so blessed.

When Gertrude retired to her bed that night, the sad scene of the day
followed her. The beauty of Isabella, with her flowing curls, and the
look of the child, so much resembling the man whom she so dearly loved,
could not be forgotten; and little Clotelle's exclamation of "Papa!
papa!" rang in her ears during the whole night.

The return of Henry at twelve o'clock did not increase her happiness.
Feeling his guilt, he had absented himself from the house since his
return from the ride.

CHAPTER XI. TO-DAY A MISTRESS, TO-MORROW A SLAVE

THE night was dark, the rain descended in torrents from the black and
overhanging clouds, and the thunder, accompanied with vivid flashes of
lightning, resounded fearfully, as Henry Linwood stepped from his chaise
and entered Isabella's cottage.

More than a fortnight had elapsed since the accidental meeting, and
Isabella was in doubt as to who the lady was that Henry was with in the
carriage. Little, however, did she think that it was his wife. With a
smile, Isabella met the young man as he entered her little dwelling.
Clotelle had already gone to bed, but her father's voice aroused her
from her sleep, and she was soon sitting on his knee.

The pale and agitated countenance of Henry betrayed his uneasiness, but
Isabella's mild and laughing allusion to the incident of their meeting
him on the day of his pleasure-drive, and her saying, "I presume, dear
Henry, that the lady was one of your relatives," led him to believe that
she was still in ignorance of his marriage. She was, in fact, ignorant
who the lady was who accompanied the man she loved on that eventful day.
He, aware of this, now acted more like himself, and passed the thing off
as a joke. At heart, however, Isabella felt uneasy, and this uneasiness
would at times show itself to the young man. At last, and with a great
effort, she said,--

"Now, hear Henry, if I am in the way of your future happiness, say so,
and I will release you from any promises that you have made me. I know
there is no law by which I can hol