eil,
which has fallen upon those early scenes, and look at them again.

"Mary Howard was just eighteen years of age, when she plighted her troth
to me; and surely never has Heaven placed a purer spirit in a more
lovely form. Trusting and affectionate, her warm heart must needs fasten
upon something it might love; and because we had been reared together,
and she was ignorant of the larger world around her, her love was fixed
on me. I will not go back to those bright, joyous days of innocence and
happiness. They are gone forever, Alfred Bernard, and I have lived, and
now live for another object, than to indulge in the recollection of joy
and love. The saddest day of my whole life, except one, and that has
darkened all the rest, was when I first left her side to go to college.
But still we looked onward with high hope, and many were the castles in
the air, or rather the vine clad cottages, which we reared in fancy, for
our future home. Hope, Alfred Bernard, though long deferred, it may
sicken the heart, yet hope, however faint, is better than despair.

"Well! I went to college, and my love for Mary spurred me on in my
career, and honours came easily, but were only prized because she would
be proud of them. But though I was a hard student, I was not without my
friends, for I had a trusting heart then. Among these, yes, chief among
these, was Edward Hansford."

Bernard started at the mention of that name. He felt that some dark
mystery was about to be unravelled, which would establish his connection
with the unhappy rebel. Yet he was lost in conjecture as to the
character of the revelation.

"I have never in my long experience," continued Hutchinson, smiling
sadly, as he observed the effect produced, "known any man who possessed,
in so high a degree, the qualities which make men beloved and honoured.
Brave, generous, and chivalrous; brilliant in genius, classical in
attainment, profound in intellect. His person was a fit palace for such
a mind and such a heart. Yes, I can think of him now as he was, when I
first knew him, before crime of the deepest dye had darkened his soul. I
loved him as I never had loved a man before, as I never can love a man
again. I might forgive the past, I could never trust again.

"Edward returned my love, I believe, with his whole heart. Our studies
were the same, our feelings and opinions were congenial, and, in short,
in the language of our great bard, we grew 'like a double cherry, only
se