when, as it appeared, he was to be master of his uncle's wealth. Yet
again comes the thought, Was he pledged to her? Ay, that was certain
enough; and then she was so little versed in the subtle ways of the
world, that she could not doubt of his being "true to his troth."

As soon as she recovered from her meditation, she sought again the
workroom of the artist, to whom she told the issue of the search for the
will. Paul looked at first greatly struck, but under his strange
philosophy he recovered that calmness which belongs to those of his way
of thinking.

"Have I not often preached to you, Rachel," said he, as he lay back on
his chair, "that all these things were fixed ere Sirius was born? Yea,"
he added, as a smile played amid the seriousness of his face, "ere yet
there was a space for the dog-star to wag his tail. The croppings out
will now come thick, and you will know whether you are to be a lady or a
beggar."

Rachel might have known that the consolation offered by fatalists is
only the recommendation of a resignation which, as fated itself, is
gloomy, if not awful, for it amounts to an annihilation of self, with
all hopes, energies, and resolutions. She heard his words, and forgave
him, if she did not believe him; for she knew that he was true in his
friendship, and benevolent in his feelings--parts these, too, as he
would have said, of the decree. She left him in a condition of sadness
for which she could not yet account, and the hues of her mind seemed to
be projected on all objects around her. She retired to rest; but she
could not banish from her mind that the realities of her condition
required to be read by the blue light of Paul's philosophy. It was far
in the morning before she fell asleep; and when nine came she felt