bedience to his mandates."

"And Mr. Denbigh, aunt," exclaimed Emily, the blood mantling to her cheeks
with a sympathetic glow, while she lost all consideration for John in the
strength of her feelings, "his charity you think to be of this
description?"

"So far, my child, as we can understand motives from the nature of the
conduct, such appears to have been the charity of Mr. Denbigh."

Grace was silenced, if not convinced; and the ladies continued their walk,
lost in their own reflections, until they reached a bend in the road which
hid the cottage from view. Emily involuntarily turned her head as they
arrived at the spot, and saw that Denbigh had approached within a few
paces of them. On joining them, he commenced his complimentary address in
such a way as convinced them the cottager had been true to the injunction
given by Mrs. Wilson. No mention was made of the gardener, and Denbigh
began a lively description of some foreign scenery, of which their present
situation reminded him. The discourse was maintained with great interest
by himself and Mrs. Wilson for the remainder of their walk.

It was yet early when they reached the parsonage, where they found John,
who had driven to the hall to breakfast, and who, instead of pursuing his
favorite amusement of shooting, laid down his gun as they entered,
observing, "It is rather soon yet for the woodcocks, and I believe I will
listen to your entertaining conversation, ladies, for the remainder of the
morning." He threw himself upon a sofa at no great distance from Grace,
and in such a position as enabled him, without rudeness, to study the
features of her lovely face, while Denbigh read aloud to the ladies
Campbell's beautiful description of wedded love, in Gertrude of Wyoming.

There was a chastened correctness in the ordinary manner of Denbigh which
wore the appearance of the influence of his reason, and a subjection of
the passions, that, if anything, gave him less interest with Emily than
had it been marked by an evidence of stronger feeling. But on the present
occasion, this objection was removed: his reading was impressive; he
dwelt on those passages which most pleased him with a warmth of eulogium
fully equal to her own undisguised sensations. In the hour occupied in the
reading this exquisite little poem, and in commenting on its merits and
sentiments, Denbigh gained more on her imagination than in all their
former intercourse. His ideas were as pure, as chaste