-"

"Barnard, as you call him. I understand you; be it so!" and accordingly
I enjoined the goods to be sent to my own house, whence they were
removed to Don Diego's new abode and I took especial care to leave with
the good lady no clew to discover Alvarez and his daughter, otherwise
than _through me_. The pleasure afforded me of directing Gerald's
attention to myself, I could not resist. "Tell Mr. Barnard, when he
calls," said I, "that only through Count Morton Devereux will he hear of
Don Diego d'Alvarez and the lady his daughter."

"I will, your honour," said the landlady; and then looking at me more
attentively, she added: "Bless me! now when you speak, there is a very
strong likeness between yourself and Mr. Barnard."

I recoiled as if an adder had stung me, and hurried into the coach to
support the patient, who was already placed there.

Now then my daily post was by the bed of disease and suffering: in the
chamber of death was my vow of love ratified; and in sadness and in
sorrow was it returned. But it is in such scenes that the deepest, the
most endearing, and the most holy species of the passion is engendered.
As I heard Isora's low voice tremble with the suspense of one who
watches over the hourly severing of the affection of Nature and of
early years; and as I saw her light step flit by the pillow which she
smoothed, and her cheek alternately flush and fade, in watching
the wants which she relieved; as I marked her mute, her unwearying
tenderness, breaking into a thousand nameless but mighty cares, and
pervading like an angel's vigilance every--yea, the minutest--course
into which it flowed,--did I not behold her in that sphere in which
woman is most lovely, and in which love itself consecrates its
admiration and purifies its most ardent desires? That was not a time for
our hearts to speak audibly to each other; but we felt that they grew
closer and closer, and we asked not for the poor eloquence of words. But
over this scene let me not linger.

One morning, as I was proceeding on foot to Isora's, I perceived on
the opposite side of the way Montreuil and Gerald: they were conversing
eagerly; they both saw me. Montreuil made a slight, quiet, and dignified
inclination of the head: Gerald coloured, and hesitated. I thought he
was about to leave his companion and address me; but, with a haughty and
severe air, I passed on, and Gerald, as if stung by my demeanour, bit
his lip vehemently and followed my exampl