deal when I was at church upon that festival, and I could not help
thinking what ample room there was for a bridal procession up the
spacious aisle. Suddenly my eyes rested upon a mural tablet, inscribed,
"To the memory of Aldina Ringwood." Then with a cold thrill there came
back upon me what I had almost forgotten, the dream, or whatever it was,
that had occurred on that first night at The Shallows; and those strange
words--"The Mere belongs to you. Compel John Maryon to pay the debt of
honor!" Nothing but the remembrance of Agnes' sweet face availed for the
time to banish the vision, the statement, and the bidding.

Miss Maryon was soon down-stairs again. Did I flatter myself too much in
thinking that she was as glad to see me as I was to see her? No--I felt
sure that I did not. Then I began to reflect seriously upon my position.
My fortune was small, quite enough for me, but not enough for two; and
as she was heiress of The Mere and a comfortable rent-roll of some six
or eight thousand a year, was it not natural that Mr. Maryon expected
her to make what is called a "good match"? Still, I could not conceal
from myself the fact, that he evinced no objection whatever to my
frequent visits at his house, nor to my taking walks with his daughter
when he was unable to accompany us.

One bright, frosty day I had been down to the lake with Miss Maryon, and
had enjoyed the privilege of teaching her to skate; and on returning to
the house, we met Mr. Maryon upon the terrace, He walked with us to the
conservatory; we went in to examine the plants, and he remained outside,
pacing up and down the terrace. Both Agnes and myself were strangely
silent; perhaps my tongue had found an eloquence upon the ice which was
well met by a shy thoughtfulness upon her part. But there was a lovely
color upon her cheeks, and I experienced a very considerable and unusual
fluttering about my heart. It happened as we were standing at the door
of the conservatory, both of us silently looking away from the flowers
upon the frosty view, that our eyes lighted at the same time upon Mr.
Maryon. He, too, was apparently regarding the prospect, when suddenly he
paused and staggered back, as if something unexpected met his gaze.

"Oh, poor papa! I hope he is not going to have one of his fits!"
exclaimed Agnes.

"Fits! Is he subject to such attacks?" I inquired.

"Not ordinary fits," she answered hurriedly; "I hardly know how to
explain them. They come upo