ectual ambition have this
advantage, that they are self won; but, bethink you, are not other
objects equally noble--are not the efforts we make for others more
worthy of fame than those which are dictated by purely personal desire
of distinction?"

Mark almost started at the words, whose direct application to himself
could not be doubted, and his cheek flushed, partly with pride, partly
with shame.

"Yes," said he, after a brief pause, "these are noble themes, and can
stir a heart as sorrow-struck as mine--but the paths that lead upwards,
Kate, are dark and crooked--the guides that traverse them are false and
treacherous."

"You have, indeed, found them so," said Kate, with a deep sigh.

"How do you mean, I have found them so?" cried Mark, in amazement at the
words.

"I mean what I have said, Mark, that betrayal and treachery have tracked
you for many a day. You would not trust me with your secret, Mark, nor
yet confide in me, when an accident left it in my possession. Chance has
revealed to me many circumstances of your fortune, and even now, Mark,
I am only fearful lest your own prejudices should hazard your safety.
Shall I go on? May I speak still more plainly?"

Mark nodded, and she resumed--

"One who never favoured the cause you adopted, probably from the very
confederates it necessitated--yet saw with sympathy how much truth
and honour were involved in the struggle, has long watched over
you--stretching out, unseen, the hand to help, and the shield to protect
you. He saw in you the generous boldness of one whose courage supplies
the nerve, that mere plotters trade upon, but never possess. He saw,
that once in the current, you would be swept along, while they would
watch you from the shore. He, I say, saw this, and with a generosity the
greater, because no feelings of friendship swayed him, he came forward
to save you."

"And this unseen benefactor," said Mark, with a proud look of scornful
meaning, "his name is----"

"I will not speak it, if you ask me thus," said Kate, blushing, for she
read in his glance the imputation his heart was full of. "Could you
so far divest yourself of prejudice as to hear calmly, and speak
dispassionately, I could tell you anything--everything, Mark."

"No, Kate, no," said he, smiling dubiously; "I have no right to ask,
perhaps not to accept of such a confidence."

"Be it so, then," said she, proudly, "we will speak of this no more;
and with a slight bow, and a motion o