enough to make me estimate her as one among the loveliest of our
sex."

"Edwin Florence is the man," was replied. "He won her heart, and
then turned from her; leaving the waters of affection that had
flowed at his touch to lose themselves in the sands at his feet.
There must be something base in the heart of a man who could trifle
thus with such a woman."

It required a strong effort on the part of Miss Linmore to conceal
the instant turbulence of feeling that succeeded so unexpected a
declaration. But she had, naturally, great self-control, and this
came to her aid.

"Edwin Florence!" said she, after a brief silence, speaking in a
tone of surprise.

"Yes, he is the man. Ah, me! What a ruin has been wrought! I never
saw such a change in any one as Edith exhibits. The very inspiration
of her life is gone. The love she bore towards Florence seems to
have been almost the mainspring of her existence; for in touching
that the whole circle of motion has grown feeble, and will, I fear,
soon cease for ever."

"Dreadful! The falsehood of her lover has broken her heart."

"I fear that it is even so."

"Is she ill? I have not seen her for a long time," said Miss
Linmore.