, "we may lessen the danger much
by guarding against it; and it seems to me no more than what
self-preservation requires in a young woman. But for a religious parent to
neglect it, is a wilful abandonment of a most solemn duty."

As Mrs. Wilson concluded, her niece, who had recovered the command of her
feelings pressed her hand in silence to her lips, and showed a disposition
to retire from a spot which she found recalled too many recollections of
a man whose image it was her imperious duty to banish, on every
consideration of propriety and religion.

Their walk into the house was silent, and their thoughts were drawn from
the unpleasant topic by finding a letter from Julia, announcing her
intended departure from this country, and her wish to take leave of them
in London before she sailed. As she had mentioned the probable day for
that event, both the ladies were delighted to find it was posterior to the
time fixed by Sir Edward for their own visit to the capital.

Had Jane, instead of Emily, been the one that suffered through the agency
of Mrs. Fitzgerald, however innocently on the part of the lady, her
violent and uncontrolled passions would have either blindly united the
innocent with the guilty in her resentments; or, if a sense of justice had
vindicated the lady in her judgment, yet her pride and ill-guided delicacy
would have felt her name a reproach, that would have forbidden any
intercourse with her or any belonging to her.

Not so with her sister. The sufferings of Mrs. Fitzgerald had taken a
strong hold on her youthful feelings, and a similarity of opinions and
practices on the great object of their lives, had brought them together in
a manner no misconduct in a third person could weaken. It is true, the
recollection of Denbigh was intimately blended with the fate of Mrs.
Fitzgerald. But Emily sought support against her feeling from a quarter
that rather required an investigation of them than a desire to _drown_
care with thought.

She never indulged in romantic reflections in which the image of Denbigh
was associated. This she had hardly done in her happiest moments; and his
marriage, if nothing else had interfered, now absolutely put it out of the
question. But, although a Christian, and an humble and devout one, Emily
Moseley was a woman, and had loved ardently, confidingly, and gratefully.
Marriage is the business of life with her sex,--with all, next to a
preparation for a better world,--and it cannot