st hear
this news, she thought the sooner the better. The exercise, and the
unreserved conversation of Francis and Clara, had restored in some degree
the bloom to the cheek of Emily; and Mrs. Wilson felt it necessary to
struggle with herself, before she could summon sufficient resolution to
invade the returning peace of her charge. However, having already decided
on her course, she proceeded to the discharge of what she thought to be a
duty.

"Emily, my child," she whispered, pressing her affectionately to her
bosom, "you have been all I could wish, and more than I expected, under
your arduous struggles. But one more pang, and I trust your recollections
on this painful subject will be done away."

Emily looked at her aunt in anxious expectation of what was coming, and
quietly taking the paper, followed the direction of Mrs. Wilson's finger
to the article on the marriage of Denbigh.

There was a momentary struggle in Emily for self-command. She was obliged
to find support in a chair. The returning richness of color, excited by
her walk, vanished; but recovering herself, she pressed the hand of her
anxious guardian, and, gently waving her back, proceeded to her own room.

On her return to the company, the same control of her feelings which had
distinguished her conduct of late, was again visible; and, although her
aunt most narrowly watched her movements, looks, and speeches, she could
discern no visible alteration by this confirmation of misconduct. The
truth was, that in Emily Moseley the obligations of duty were so
imperative, her sense of her dependence on Providence so humbling and yet
so confiding, that, as soon as she was taught to believe her lover
unworthy of her esteem, that moment an insuperable barrier separated them.
His marriage could add nothing to the distance between them. It was
impossible they could be united; and although a secret lingering of the
affections over his fallen character might and did exist, it existed
without any romantic expectations of miracles in his favor, or vain wishes
of reformation, in which self was the prominent feeling. She might be said
to be keenly alive to all that concerned his welfare or movements, if she
did not harbor the passion of love; but it showed itself in prayers for
his amendment of life, and the most ardent petitions for his future and
eternal happiness. She had set about, seriously and with much energy, the
task of erasing from her heart sentiments which, ho