nd for the bright planet which Randolph showed
her, and wondering was he also regarding it.

No marvel if she was more than excited by the scene which followed. To
find a relation in him whose rich tones still lingered on her ear,
whose burning words were still thrilling in her heart; to see in him
the cousin of whom she had scarcely heard, but was prepared to love;
the dweller of those desolate towers by the sea which she had so often
admired in the rambles of her childhood; to think that all she had
heard of him concerned the feud which divided them; to read that feud
in the flashing eyes which were fixed upon her mother, and to feel the
overwhelming tenderness with which they then bent upon herself,--no
marvel surely it was that the warm blood rushed to her cheeks, and she
trembled in every nerve, and her lips breathed a recognition of her
newfound kinsman.

Nor was it an impression likely to be weakened by reflection. All the
associations would rather tend to deepen it. The seclusion from which
he must have emerged, the mystery which appeared to surround him now,
the consequences of his self-betrayal, combined to the same end. Then,
too, he had a sister. Was she like him? Where was she abiding? What
were her pursuits? Mere curiosity would have found ample employment
for reverie, even if no deeper and fonder interest were at hand to
protract it.

In such meditations was Mildred absorbed when her mother came to
inform her, with stately calmness, that Mr. Melcomb had made a formal
demand of her hand; that the offer was highly acceptable to herself
and to Mr. Pendarrel, and that her suitor would pay his respects to
her the next day. As soon as Mildred had recovered some composure,
after the short scene which followed, she threw on her bonnet,--at
least she was not yet a prisoner in the house,--and walked to
Cavendish-square. Mrs. Winston read the anxiety of her mind at one
glance.

"Mildred, dearest," she exclaimed, "what is the matter?--what has
happened?"

"Do you recollect," her sister inquired in turn, with a short scornful
laugh which Gertrude did not like, "what we said of Mr. Melcomb some
time ago? Well, it seems I am to marry him:--that is what's the
matter."

"Marry Melcomb! Not while I have a home to offer you," Mrs. Winston
said, hastily. "That is, not against your wishes, dear. You may learn
to like the man. He is said to have very winning ways."

"Gertrude, Gertrude! do not jest. But we may be int