egions of the
blessed, than like one of earth! There is no longer any secret between us.
She would gladly have avoided telling me her precise situation with
Rupert, but we had already gone so far, I would know more. I thought it
might relieve her mind; and there was the chance, however slight, of its
enabling us to suggest some expedient to produce still further good. I
think it has had some of the first effect, for she is now sleeping."

"Did Grace say anything of your communicating the miserable tale to me?"

"It is, indeed, a miserable tale! Miles, they were engaged from the time
Grace was fifteen! Engaged distinctly, and in terms, I mean; not by any of
the implied understandings, by which those who were so intimate,
generally, might believe themselves bound to each other."

"And in what manner did so early and long-continued an engagement cease?"

"It came from Rupert, who should have died first, before he was so untrue
to himself, to my poor father, to me, to all of us, Miles, as well as to
his own manhood. It has been as we supposed; he has been deluded by the
eclat that attaches to these Mertons in our provincial society; and Emily
is rather a showy girl, you know,--at least for those who are accustomed
only to our simple habits."

Alas! little did Lucy _then_ know--she has learned better since--that
"showy" girls belong much more to our "simple" state of society, than to
the state of those which are commonly conceived to be more advanced. But
Emily Merton was, in a slight degree, more artificial in manner, than it
was usual for a Manhattanese female of that day, to be, and this was what
Lucy meant; Lucy, who always thought so humbly of herself, and was ever so
ready to concede to her rivals all that could plausibly be asked in
their behalf.

"I am well aware how much importance the leading set among ourselves
attaches to English connection, and English rank," I answered; "but, it
does not strike me Emily Merton is of a class so elevated, that Rupert
Hardinge need break his faith, in order to reap the advantage of belonging
to her, or her family."

"It cannot be altogether that, Miles," Lucy added, in an appealing, but
touchingly confidential manner, "you and I have known each other from
children, and, whatever may be the weaknesses of one who is so dear to me,
and who, I hope, has not altogether lost his hold on your own affections,
_we_ can still rely on each other. I shall speak to you with the utmost
d