seems it I c

mbly this love

alace, helpless

her queen it

the king had

lace where I

ed by falsehoo

s but change; n

ave the slow

aith that nev

Mul

h leading to the shore. It was a glorious evening, warm w

ed deeply with tinted clouds, and a sea dipping on the shore with a long slow ripple of sound; under a bowlder a child bathing her feet in a little runlet of a pool, while all rou

now and then small mottled crabs scrambled crookedly along, or dug graves for themselves in the dry waved sand. The girl watched them idly, as she flapped long ribbo

en she was surrounded by these little creatures-the very babies crowed a welcome to her from their mother's arms. But this evening Margaret's eyes had a s

mysterious change had passed over Margaret. It was as though some blighting influence had swept over her; her face was pal

ilfred must have given him my message." But the doubt had hardly crossed her mind before a tall figu

these hours, and then appointed this solitary place for our meeting?" Then, as she did not answer, and he looked at her more closely

turned, trying to speak calmly. "I am unh

down on this smooth white bowlder, and I will place myself at your feet. Now

dden mist seemed to hide him from her eyes; when it cleared

" But he grew still more uneasy when she suddenly clung to him in a fit of bitter weeping

have you say such things to me; forgive you who have been the bl

ing when you found me and asked me to be your wife. We have had some happy days since then, Hugh, have we not? and now to-night I have asked you to meet me here, that you

me face. It was evident that he had not expected t

this sort of thing; do you think that ever keeps people from marrying? If we had known before, as I told my father, well, perhaps it might have made a difference, but now it is too late, n

e promised Sir Wilfred tha

null and void; you are mine

im; "I will never be any man's wife. I h

a patient man, and you are trying me too much," and Hugh's

u will not be cruel to me, Hugh, because I am obliged to make you unhappy. It is not I, but the Divine Will tha

? Do you think that I will ever consent to resign you, that I could live my life without you. What do I care about your mother? Such things h

his father; he knew her scrupulous conscience, and feared that a long and weary argument might be before him, but he had ne

se such a thing. How could he think of the consequences to his unborn children, of the good of future generations of Redmonds, when he could hear nothing but the voice of his passi

ath as a punishment. She would have seen retributive justice in every trouble that came upon them, till she must have pined and withered in her remorse. But she would never marry him. In that calm, loving heart there was a fund of strength and endurance truly marvelous. In her spirit of self-sacrifice she belonged to the nob

en their union; she had promised his father that she would never marry him; she had vowed in last night's bitter conflict never to be the wife of any man.

t she never had, that that cold, pure soul of hers was incapable of passion; and he wondered with an intolerable anguish of anger whether she would suffer if he took her at her word and married another; and when he had flung these cruel words at her-for he wa

maternal element in the love of a good woman; and there was something of this protecting tenderness in Margaret's heart as she drew Hugh's he

-night, will you not tel

red, in a dull weary voice, "when you

, when I

he utmost bitterness; but she answ

t all a little harder for me. If you could have said a word that would have hel

"I have a man's feelings. You have often told me

sionate inflection in her voice, "do you know of what self-sacrifice a woman can be capable? for your dear sake, Hugh, I am content to suffer all my life, to stand aside and b

less answer; "I will take no lie upon

is pain will not last forever. One day we shall meet where it wil

d kissed him on the forehead, and the touch of those cold lips seemed his death-warrant; the next moment he was alone, and Margaret was wa

e of the Grange, a dark figure standing bare-headed

you, Ma

et stood still and motionl

u seen h

spoke, Raby took her in his arms and low words of blessings seemed to falter on his lips. "My brave sister, but I never doubted for a momen

terly; "but he will have to suffer

t, and I will not talk more to you to-night. Go to your own room, Margaret; tomorr