she could not resist, with her arms crossed and her head sunk, she knelt at his feet. For a moment, he did not attempt to answer her-he did not raise her from the ground; for a moment he pressed his hand to his throbbing brow to still the tumult of his thoughts; for, in that hour of her faithlessness, and even with the confession of it upon her lips, he felt that she was dearer, far dearer than ever. Then, in the dead silence of the room, sweet and clear his answer came, and, as it rose above her head, it sounded to her ears as the voice of an angel. "I thank you, Isabel, I thank you for your confidence, your openness, your truth; the world can never be dark to me, while such as you inhabit it. You are free, if indeed you wait my words to release you, and may God give you happiness! You have my forgiveness, dearest, though you need it not, for I have nothing to forgive; and, while life endures," he continued, in a voice still clear, though it began to tremble, "you shall have my prayers and my blessing. Take it," he said, and, rising and gently laying his hand upon her bended head, he spoke the words of peace and blessing, which, before now, have stilled many a tried and broken heart. As he concluded, he turned to go abruptly, for he felt as if a parting he could not endure. But Isabel stopped him in the doorway. "I will not detain you, Herbert," she said, gently and humbly, "only I would tell you— I must tell you how I thank you and bless you." As she spoke, she took his burning hand in her cold grasp. He cast upon her one last long look, and was gone. As the door closed, and the excitement passed, Isabel fell lifeless on the ground. Mrs. Shepherd and Rachel sate in the small back room. Rachel had taken this opportunity to break the change to her aunt, with an unconscious tone of kindness and excuse for Isabel; and the communication made, she sate in this anxious hour, hearing, but not listening to, the questions, exclamations, and remarks, which fell from the old lady. "Bless me! you don't say so? Poor thing! and is this the cause of her pale cheeks, and her eyes, which make me sad to look at? Bless me, what a change! I always knew how it would be; I never liked this London business, I never did. What business had a fine young man to make mischief in this way? Herbert do now? Bless my soul, I must call him Mr. Grey again! a wife sadly, after thinking he'd got one for so long. Well-a-day! I never thought of this!" What will I suppose He'll want Rachel sate in deep thought. The blow she had received from her child, her pupil, was great indeed but love for Isabel conquered in the struggle with the condemnation of her weakness. Her thoughts were of the disappointments of life of the dangers of the world. The door slowly opened, and Herbert stood in the entrance-so changed his face, it cut Rachel to the soul. 66 "You had better go to Isabel, Miss Shepherd," he said, in a very low voice: "I am sure she is very tired." He half turned to go, then silently came back, and shook the hand of each. "Bless me, if Herbert don't look just like a ghost!" exclaimed Mrs. Shepherd, with tears in her eyes. 66 Oh, Isabel! I cannot forgive you!" cried Rachel, as she hurried to her niece. CHAPTER XVIII. The nymph must lose her female friend, COWPER. It was the morning after the meeting and the parting of Herbert Grey and Isabel. The two Miss Chapmans sate in the little room fronting the street. Laura, as usual, was leaning against the window. Elizabeth, who, since her attachment and consequent engagement to Mr. Franklin, a sensible young man, had become much more discreet, was working at the other end of the room. After two or three comments on what was passing in the street, Laura called to her sister "Here comes Matilda Bridges. I'll bet any |