up again the golden idol that one word of cruel unkindness, has
shattered within our hearts.

It was nearly dusk when Honor and Vivian Standish landed at Mr. Rayne's
boat-house, near the bridge. The night air was growing cooler, and the
stars were breaking through the cloudless sky in quiet succession.

With the tenderest of solicitude, Vivian carefully placed Honor's wrap
around her shoulders, and gently assisting her up the steep ascent of
the boat-house stairs, he stole his hand under the knotted fringe of the
warm shawl, and thrust it within her arm.

Honor, for a great many reasons, chose to sign a treaty of peace with
Vivian Standish. She suspected that he knew, perhaps more than he cared
to show, of her attachment for Guy, and if a word of unmeaning
forgiveness, could serve to buy him over, she did not hesitate in
purchasing discretion with such counterfeit coins, for she cared little,
if she were exalted or not in such opinions as his.

Thus, they proceeded, quite amicably on their homeward way, both in an
unusually good humor. There is a auspicious feature about such suddenly
assumed gaiety, that cannot but amuse the disinterested participator;
when either in such a case as that of Vivian Standish we wish thereby to
drown the memory of a recent mistake or blunder, by indulging in loud
mirth, that distracts the mind from the unpleasantness just experienced,
or when we are under the painful influence of some personal trouble, be
it a substantial loss of any sort, or the more unfortunate burden, cast
upon us by any social stigma, then, when the whole world, learning of
our misfortune extends its hand in stinging sympathy, and looks with
painful enquiry of curious compassion, to see "how we take it," what a