Arabella
Fossett, of whose handsome, if somewhat too strongly defined and sombre
countenance, she had retained a faithful reminiscence. But Arabella had
still the same imposing manner which had often repressed the gay spirits
of her young pupil; and as she now motioned the great lady to a seat,
and placed herself beside, an awed recollection of the schoolroom bowed
Caroline's lovely head in mute respect.

MRS. CRANE.--"You too are changed since I saw you last,--that was more
than five years ago, but you are not less beautiful. You can still be
loved;--you would not scare away the man whom you might desire to save.
Sorrow has its partialities. Do you know that I have a cause to be
grateful to you, without any merit of your own. In a very dark moment
of my life--only vindictive and evil passions crowding on me--your face
came across my sight. Goodness seemed there so beautiful--and, in
this face, Evil looked so haggard! Do not interrupt me. I have but
few minutes to spare you. Yes; at the sight of that face, gentle
recollections rose up. You had ever been kind to me; and truthful,
Caroline Lyndsay--truthful. Other thoughts came at the beam of that
face, as other thoughts come when a strain of unexpected music reminds
us of former days. I cannot tell how, but from that moment a something
more like womanhood, than I had known for years, entered into my heart.
Within that same hour I was sorely tried galled to the quick of my soul.
Had I not seen you before, I might have dreamed of nothing but a stern
and dire revenge. And a purpose of revenge I did form. But it was not to
destroy-it was to save! I resolved that the man who laughed to scorn the
idea of vows due to me--vows to bind life to life--should yet sooner or
later be as firmly mine as if he had kept his troth; that my troth at
least should be kept to him, as if it had been uttered at the altar.

"Hush, did you hear a moan?--No! He lies yonder, Caroline Lyndsay--mine,
indeed, till the grave us do part. These hands have closed over him, and
he rests in their clasp, helpless as an infant." Involuntarily Caroline
recoiled. But looking into that careworn face, there was in it so wild a
mixture of melancholy tenderness, with a resolved and fierce expression
of triumph, that, more impressed by the tenderness than by the triumph,
the woman sympathised with the woman; and Caroline again drew near,
nearer than before, and in her deep soft eyes pity alone was seen. Into
those