grace and sweetness binding her more
and more closely to the doting heart of her husband. For her inward
self, Marie was calm--nay, at intervals, almost happy. She had neither
prayed nor struggled in vain, and she felt as if her very prayer was
answered in the fact that Arthur Stanley had been appointed to some
high and honorable post in Sicily, and they were not therefore likely
yet to meet again. The wife of such a character as Morales could not
have continued wretched unless perversely resolved so to be. But his
very virtues, while they inspired the deepest reverence towards him,
engendered some degree of fear. Could she really have loved him as--he
believed she did--this feeling would not have had existence; but its
foundation was the constant thought that she was deceiving him--the
remorse, that his fond confidence was so utterly misplaced--the
consciousness, that there was still something to conceal, which, if
discovered, must blight his happiness for ever, and estrange him from
her, were it only for the past deceit. Had his character been less
lofty--his confidence in her less perfect--his very love less fond
and trusting--she could have borne her trial better; but to one true,
ingenuous, open as herself, what could be more terrible than the
unceasing thought that she was acting a part--and to her husband?
Often and often she longed, with an almost irresistible impulse, to
fling herself at his feet, and beseech him not to pierce her heart
with such fond trust; but the impulse was forcibly controlled. What
would such confession avail her now?--or him, save to wound?

Amongst the many Spaniards of noble birth who visited Don Ferdinand's,
was one Don Luis Garcia, whose actual rank and office no one seemed to
know; and yet, in affairs of church or state, camp or council, he was
always so associated, that it was impossible to discover to which of
these he was allied; in fact, there was a mystery around him, which no
one could solve. Notwithstanding his easy--nay, it was by some thought
fascinating manners, his presence generally created a restraint, felt
intuitively by all, yet comprehended by none. That there is such, an
emotion as antipathy mercifully placed within us, often as a warning,
we do most strenuously believe; but we seldom trace and recognize it
as such, till circumstances reveal its truth.

The real character of Don Luis, and the office he held, our future
pages will disclose; suffice it here to state,