that the heart was bleeding inly.

True; not without prophetic insight had Arabella Crane said to the
pining, but resolute, quiet child, behind the scenes of Mr. Rugge's show,
"How much you will love one day." All that night Waife lay awake
pondering--revolving--exhausting that wondrous fertility of resource
which teemed in his inventive brain. In vain!

And now--(the day after this conversation with Lady Montfort, whose
illness grieves, but does not surprise him)--now, as he sits and thinks,
and gazes abstractedly into that far, pale, winter sky-now, the old man
is still scheming how to reconcile a human loving heart to the eternal
loss of that affection which has so many perishable counterfeits, but
which, when true in all its elements--complete in all its varied wealth
of feeling, is never to be forgotten and never to be replaced.




CHAPTER II.

AN OFFERRING TO THE MANES.

Three sides of Waife's cottage were within Lady Montfort's grounds; the
fourth side, with its more public, entrance, bordered the lane. Now, as
he thus sate, he was startled by a low timid ring at the door which
opened on the lane. Who could it be?--not Jasper! He began to tremble.
The ring was repeated. One woman-servant composed all his establishment.
He heard her opening the door--heard a low voice; it seemed a soft,
fresh, young voice. His room-door opened, and the woman, who of course