could rest upon. Her great object was to impress her aunt with such an opinion of Edward's character, that she should be as unable as herself to believe anything to his disadvantage. The enthusiasm with which, after they had been together some time, she suffered herself to enlarge upon the nobleness of mind, the high sense of duty, the perfect truth which distinguished her betrothed, could not fail to have an effect upon her aunt, who knew Mary's opportunities for forming an opinion, and who entertained besides a high respect for her judgment.

Though Mary said nothing of the strength of their mutual attachment, Mrs. Douglas saw that on both sides it had been one of long standing and of no common depth, and it grieved her to the heart to think how the light of Mary's whole life would be dimmed by this unfortunate engagement. Had it been the result of hasty passion, however violent, there would have been hope that disappointment and sorrow might wear themselves out, and leave a craving for some new affection and fresh interest to fill up the blank, so that

in time Mary might yet have been a happy and contented wife; but now, that one, slow to take impressions and tenacious of those once received, had deliberately, and with the full concurrence of judgment and feeling, bestowed the treasure of her first affections upon an object whom she still deemed worthy of her love, Mrs. Douglas could not flatter herself that there was much prospect of a change, and she felt that Mary's love was for life. For the present, sorrow must be allowed to have its way, by and by she would try by gentle and repeated efforts to lead her back to her old employments, and to other useful pursuits. Mrs. Douglas knew by experience that active benevolence is the best cure for sorrow, and that when the spirit turns with loathing from social or intellectual interests, it may yet be roused to exertion in behalf of others. With this view she proposed to obtain Mr. Hardy's permission to carry Mary back with her to her quiet home, where change of scene and a new routine of life might prove of service to her.

Aunt Jane was exceedingly jealous of the preference shown to Mrs. Douglas, and her more than usually wearying ways led Mary to consent gladly to the proposal of going from home for a time, though she felt some compunction at leaving her father, the more perhaps that they were no longer what they had been to each other. She reproached herself with having destroyed the peace of his old age, but she hoped that on her return from Harefield Park she should have recovered cheerfulness enough to resume their former habits, and to make him forget what had passed. Perhaps, too, he might then be willing to judge Edward less harshly. By going with her aunt, Mary would escape the eyes of those who knowing her circumstances would be curious to observe the effect they had upon her, and she should no longer hear the thousand and one rumours that were afloat on all sides: she hoped also to find relief from the listlessness and disinclination to occupy herself, under which she was now suffering. For many weeks past everything had been done with a view to

Edward; if she was drawing it was for him, if she was working it was still for him. She read only to delight in the passages he would like, or to imagine his sentiments upon the subject discussed. Even in her school she had been guided by his advice, and she could neither summon up courage to meet the little anxious faces of the children, and the grave pity of the schoolmistress, nor to resume her visits to the sick and afflicted among those in her father's employment.

A thousand different things combined to make her desirous of leaving home for a time, to come back with fresh-strung nerves and a stern resolution to overcome all weakness, to adopt a regular, and if possible useful course of existence, and to devote herself to her father for the remainder of his life.

Mr. Hardy's consent was easily obtained, and in a day or two Mrs. Douglas and Mary were to set off together.

CHAPTER XVI.

Better trust all and be deceived,

And weep that trust and that deceiving,

Than doubt one heart that if believed,

Had blessed one's life with true believing.

MRS. F. KEMBLE.

SHORTLY after his visit to Windyheugh, Mr. Pringle met Mr. Marshall, and communicated to him the story that he had there heard. He did not say what his own opinion was, but contented himself with stating the facts, and connecting them so as to bring out distinctly all that they might be supposed to imply. He was desirous of observing the effect of such a statement upon Mr. Marshall, partly as a test of Edward's general character. He wished to see whether the high estimation in which he was held, was built upon a foundation firm enough to resist the attack.