love is better to me than gold, yea, than much fine gold!"




CHAPTER IV.

Oh Lord, thou hast enlarged the grief
Of this poor stricken heart,
That only finds in tears relief,
Which all unbidden start:
Long have I borne the cruel scorn
Of one I could not love nor hate;
My soul, with secret anguish torn,
Yields unresisting to its fate--S.M.


Mark Hurdlestone's triumph was complete; his revenge fully gratified,
when he led his beautiful bride from the altar to the carriage, which
was in readiness to convey her to her future home. She was his, and
Algernon might return as soon as he pleased. Elinor Wildegrave was
beyond his reach. She could never be his wife.

Tranquil, but not happy, Elinor viewed the change in her circumstances
as an intervention of Providence to save her from a life of poverty and
suffering; and she fancied that, if she did not love her benefactor,
feelings of gratitude and a sense of duty would always prevent him from
becoming to her an object of dislike or indifference.

How little had she studied human nature; how ignorant was she of the