dy to his favor. Even Virginia,
though her heart misgave her from the first that the arrival of Bernard
boded no good to her lover, was deceived by his plausible manners and
attracted by his brilliant conversation. So the tempter, with the
graceful crest, and beautiful colours of the subtle serpent beguiled Eve
far more effectually, than if in his own shape he had attempted to
convince her by the most specious sophisms.

CHAPTER XLI.

"Was ever woman in this humour wooed?"
_Richard III._

Dinner being over, the gentlemen remained according to the good old
custom, to converse over their wine, while Virginia retired to the quiet
little parlour, and with some favourite old author tried to beguile her
thoughts from the bitter fears which she felt for the safety of
Hansford. But it was all in vain. Her eyes often wandered from her book,
and fixed upon the blazing, hickory fire, she was lost in a painful
reverie. As she weighed in her mind the many chances in favour of, and
against his escape, she turned in her trouble to Him, who alone could
rescue her, and with the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she
murmured in bitter accents, "Oh, Lord! in Thee have I trusted, let me
never be confounded." Even while she spoke, she was surprised to hear
immediately behind her, the well-known voice of Alfred Bernard, for so
entirely lost had she been in meditation that she had not heard his step
as he entered the room.

"Miss Temple, and in tears!" he said, with well assumed surprise. "What
can have moved you thus, Virginia?"

"Alas! Mr. Bernard, you who have known my history and my troubles for
the last few bitter months, cannot be ignorant that I have much cause
for sadness. But," she added, with a faint attempt to smile, "had I
known of your presence, I would not have sought to entertain you with my
sorrows."

"The troubles that you speak of are passed, Miss Temple," said Bernard,
affecting to misunderstand her, "and as the Colony begins to smile again
in the beams of returning peace, you, fair Virginia, should also smile
in sympathy with your namesake."

"Mr. Bernard, you must jest. You at least should have known, ere this,
that my individual sorrows are not so dependent upon the political
condition of the Colony. You at least should have known, sir, that the
very peace you boast of may be the knell of hopes more dear to a woman's
heart than even the glory and welfare of her