for you. We none of us
can conceive who it is, but of course he must be suitable in every
respect; for you know Lady Maclaughlan has had three husbands herself;
so of course she must be an excellent judge of a good husband."

"Or a bad one," said Mary, "which is the same thing. Warning is as good
as example."

Mrs. Douglas's ideas and those of her aunt, did not coincide upon this
occasion more than upon most others. In her sister-in-Iaw's letter she
flattered herself she saw only fashionable indifference; and she fondly
hoped that would soon give way to a tenderer sentiment, as her daughter
became known to her. At any rate it was proper that Mary should make the
trial, and whichever way it ended, it must be for her advantage.

"Mary has already lived too long in these mountain solitudes," thought
she; "her ideas will become romantic, and her taste fastidious. If it is
dangerous to be too early initiated into the ways of the world, it is
perhaps equally so to live too long secluded from it. Should she make
herself a place in the heart of her mother and sister it will be so much
happiness gained; and should it prove otherwise, it will be a lesson
learnt--a hard one indeed! but hard are the lessons we must all learn in
the school of life!" Yet Mrs. Douglas's fortitude almost failed her as
the period of separation approached.

It had been arranged by Lady Emily that a carriage and servants
should meet Mary at Edinburgh, whither Mr. Douglas was to convey her.
The cruel moment came; and mother, sister, relations, friends,--all the
bright visions which Mary's sanguine spirit had conjured up to soften
the parting pang, all were absorbed in one agonising feeling, one
overwhelming thought. Oh, who that for the first time has parted from
the parent whose tenderness and love were entwined with our earliest
recollections, whose sympathy had soothed our infant sufferings, whose
fondness had brightened our infant felicity;--who that has a heart, but
must have felt it sink beneath the anguish of a first farewell! Yet
bitterer still must be the feelings of the parent upon committing the
cherished object of their cares and affections to the stormy ocean of
life. When experience points to the gathering cloud and rising surge
which soon may assail their defenceless child, what can support the
mother's heart but trust in Him whose eye slumbereth not, and whose
power extendeth over all? It was this pious hope, this holy confidence,
that