in public
until the day of their union; was present, composed and silent; but it
was the silence of a mountain whose volcanic contents had not reached the
surface. The same day he disappeared, and every inquiry after him proved
fruitless; search was baffled, and for seven years it was not known what
had become of the general's eldest son.

George on marrying resigned his commission, at the earnest entreaties of
his wife, and retired to one of her seats, to the enjoyment of ease and
domestic love. The countess was enthusiastically attached to him; and as
motives for the indulgence of coquetry were wanting, her character became
gradually improved by the contemplation of the excellent qualities of her
generous husband.

A lurking suspicion of the cause of Francis's sudden disappearance
rendered her uneasy at times; but Marian was too much beloved, too happy,
in the enjoyment of too many honors, and of too great wealth, to be open
to the convictions of conscience. It is in our hours of pain and privation
that we begin to feel its sting: if we are prosperous, we fancy we reap
the fruits of our own merit; but if we are unfortunate, the voice of truth
seldom fails to remind us that we are deserving of our fate:--a blessed
provision of Providence that often makes the saddest hours of our earthly
career the morn of a day that is to endure for ever.

General Denbigh and Lady Margaret both died within five years of the
marriage of their favorite child, although both lived to see their
descendant, in the person of the infant Lord Lumley.

The duke and his brother George were each blessed with offspring, and in
these several descendants of the different branches of the family of
Denbigh may be seen the different personages of our history. On the birth
of her youngest child, the Lady Marian, the Countess of Pendennyss
sustained a shock in her health from which she never wholly recovered: she
became nervous, and lost most of her energy both of mind and body. Her
husband was her solace; his tenderness remaining unextinguished, while his
attentions increased.

As the fortune of Ives and Isabel put the necessity of a living out of the
question, and no cure offering for the acceptance of the first, he was
happy to avail himself of an offer to become domestic chaplain to his now
intimate friend, Mr. Denbigh. For the first six years they were inmates of
Pendennyss Castle. The rector of the parish was infirm, and averse to a
regular ass