not possibly avoid loving each other, and all
will be as it should be. God grant I may live to see it!"

And hope softened the pang of disappointment.

CHAPTER XII.

"Qui vous a pu plonger dans cette humeur chagrine,
A-t-on par quelque edit reforme la cuisine?"

BOILEAU.

MARY'S inexperienced mind expected to find, on her return to Beech Park,
some vestige of the pleasures of the preceding night--some shadows, at
least, of gaiety, to show what happiness she had sacrificed what delight
her friends had enjoyed; but for the first time she beheld the hideous
aspect of departed pleasure. Drooping evergreens, dying lamps, dim
transparencies, and faded flowers, met her view as she crossed the hall;
while the public rooms were covered with dust from the chalked floors,
and wax from the droppings of the candles. Everything, in short, looked
tawdry and forlorn. Nothing was in its place--nothing looked as it used
to do--and she stood amazed at the disagreeable metamorphose an things
had undergone.

Hearing some one approach, she turned and beheld Dr. Redgill enter.

"So--it's only you, Miss Mary!" exclaimed he in a tone of chagrin. "I
was in hopes it was some of the women-servants. 'Pon my soul, it's
disgraceful to think that in this house there is not a woman stirring
yet! I have sent five messages by my man to let Mrs. Brown know that I
have been waiting for my breakfast these two hours; but this confounded
ball has turned everything upside down! You are come to a pretty scene,"
continued he, looking round with a mixture of fury and contempt,--"a
very pretty scene! 'Pon my honour, I blush to see myself standing here!
Just look at these rags!" kicking a festoon of artificial roses that had
fallen to the ground. "Can anything be more despicable?--and to think
that rational creatures in possession of their senses should take
pleasure in the sight of such trumpery! 'Pon my soul, I--I--declare it
confounds me! I really used to think Lady Emily (for this is all her
doing) had some sense--but such a display of folly as this!"

"Pshaw!" said Mary, "it is not fair in us to stand here analysing the
dregs of gaiety after the essence is gone. I daresay this was a very
brilliant scene last night."

"Brilliant scene, indeed!" repeated the Doctor in a most; wrathful
accent: "I really am amazed--I--yes--brilliant enough--if you mean that
there was a glare of light enough to blind the devil. I thou