conceit by a poetic illustration--Niobe turned to stone; but she had a
great many daughters before she petrified. Pardon me, if I would turn
off by a jest a thought that I see would shock you, as myself, if gravely
encouraged. Encourage it not. Let us suppose it only a chance that
inquiry might confirm this conjecture; but let us shun that chance.
Meanwhile, if inquiry is to be made, one more likely than either of us
to get at the truth has promised to make it, and sooner or later we may
learn from her the results--I mean that ill-fated Arabella Fossett, whom
you knew as Crane."

Waife was silent; but he kept turning in his hand, almost disconsolately,
the document which assoiled him from the felon's taint, and said at
length, as Darrell was about to leave, "And this thing is of no use to
her, then?"

Darrell came back to the old man's chair, and said softly: "Friend, do
not fancy that the young have only one path to happiness. You grieve
that I cannot consent to Lionel's marriage with your Sophy. Dismiss from
your mind the desire for the Impossible. Gently wean from hers what is
but a girl's first fancy."

"It is a girl's first love."

"And if it be," said Darrell, calmly, "no complaint more sure to yield to
change of air. I have known a girl as affectionate, as pure, as full of
all womanly virtues, as your Sophy (and I can give her no higher praise)
--loved more deeply than Lionel can love; professing, doubtless at the
time believing, that she also loved for life; betrothed too; faith
solemnised by promise; yet in less than a year she was another's wife.
Change of air, change of heart! I do not underrate the effect which a