noble future. Oh, Maurice, had you lingered one week more, I never
should have been the miserable thing I am!"

There her voice faltered and failed, for all the bitterness of lost
love, peace, and happiness sounded in the pathetic passion of that
exclamation. She did not weep, for tears seldom dimmed those tragical
eyes of hers; but she wrung her hands in mute despair, and looked down
into the frost-blighted gardens below, as if she saw there a true symbol
of her own ruined life. Treherne uttered not a word, but set his teeth
with an almost fierce glance toward the distant figure of Sir Jasper,
who was riding gaily away, like one unburdened by a memory or a care.

Hurriedly Mrs. Snowdon went on, "My father begged and commanded me to
choose your cousin. I could not break his heart, and asked for time,
hoping to soften him. While I waited, that mysterious affair hurried you
from Paris, and then came the wreck, the illness, and the rumor that old
Sir Jasper had disinherited both nephews. They told me you were dying,
and I became a passive instrument in my father's hands. I promised to
recall and accept your cousin, but the old man died before it was done,
and then I cared not what became of me.

"General Snowdon was my father's friend; he pitied me; he saw my
desolate, destitute state, my despair and helplessness. He comforted,
sustained, and saved me. I was grateful; and when he offered me his
heart and home, I accepted them. He knew I had no love to give; but as a
friend, a daughter, I would gladly serve him, and make his declining
years as happy as I could. It was all over, when I heard that you were
alive, afflicted, and poor. I longed to come and live for you. My new
bonds became heavy fetters then, my wealth oppressed me, and I was
doubly wretched--for I dared not tell my trouble, and it nearly drove me