treasures of love which sorrow, in her cruelest aspect, had locked
within his heart.

The complacency with which he regarded every one-the pouring out of his
beneficent spirit, which seemed to embrace all, like his dearest
kindred-turned every eye and heart toward him, as to the source of
every bliss; as to a being who seemed made to love, and be beloved by
every one. Lady mar looked at him, listened to him, with her rapt soul
seated in her eyes. In his presence all was transport.

But when he withdrew for the night, what was then the state of her
feelings! The overflowing of heart he felt for all, she appropriated
solely for herself. The sweetness of his voice, the unutterable
expression of his countenance, while, as he spoke, he veiled his eyes
under their long brown lashes, had raised such vague hopes in her
bosom, that-he being gone-she hastened her adieus to the rest, eager to
retire to bed, and there uninterruptedly muse on the happiness of
having at last touched the heart of a man for whom she would resign the
world.


Chapter XXVIII.

Isle of Bute.



The morning would have brought annihilation to the countess'
new-fledged hopes, had not Murray been the first to meet her as she
came from her chamber.