and I believe that neither time nor circumstance could ever change your
love for her."

"You may believe that. Every day makes her dearer to me. I should be
ashamed to tell you how bitterly I feel this parting, and what a
desperate mental struggle I went through before I could make up my mind
to go."

Marian came into the room in the midst of this conversation. She was very
pale, and her eyes had a dull, heavy look. The bad news in Gilbert's
letter had distressed her even more than he had anticipated.

"My darling," he said tenderly, looking down at the changed face, with
her cold hand clasped in his own, "how ill you are looking! I fear I made
my letter too dismal, and that it frightened you."

"Oh no, no. I am very sorry you should have this bad fortune, Gilbert,
that is all."

"There is nothing which I do not hope to repair, dear. The losses are not
more than I can stand. All that I take to heart is the separation from
you, Marian."

"I am not worth so much regret," she said, with her eyes fixed upon the
ground, and her hands clasping and unclasping each other nervously.

"Not worth so much regret, Marian!" he exclaimed. "You are all the world
to me; the beginning and end of my universe."

She looked a little brighter by-and-by, when her lover had done his best