hesitate to comply with Herbert's
wishes. Ellen's suggestion had roused him to exertion, and he should not
be permitted to sink back into despondency, at least they should meet.

It would be difficult to define Ellen's feelings as she beheld her
work, and marked the effect of her words upon her cousin. Not a particle
of selfishness mingled in her feelings, but that deep pang was yet
unconquered. Herbert's manner to her was even kinder, more affectionate
than usual, during the few days that intervened ere they parted, as if
he felt that she had drawn aside the dark veil of impenetrable gloom,
and summoned hope to rise again; and could she see or feel this unmoved?
Still was she calm and tranquil, and she would speak of Mary and of
brighter hopes, and no emotion was betrayed in her pale cheek or in that
tearless eye.

Percy accompanied his father and brother. They travelled rapidly, and a
favourable voyage enabled them to reach Paris in a shorter time than
usual. Mr. Hamilton had insisted on seeking Mr. Greville's mansion at
first alone, and Percy controlled his own feelings. To calm the strong
emotion, the deep anxiety, that now he was indeed in the same city as
his Mary, almost overpowered Herbert; the struggle for composure, for
resignation to whatever might be the will of his God, was too powerful
for his exhausted strength. Sleep had only visited him by snatches,
short and troubled, since he had received Mary's letter; the long
interval which elapsed ere Mr. Hamilton returned was productive of even
keener suffering than he had yet endured. Hope had sunk powerless before
anxiety; the strength of mind which had borne him up so long was giving
way beneath the exhaustion of bodily powers, which Percy saw with alarm
and sorrow; his eyes had lost their lustre, and were becoming dim and
haggard; more than once he observed a slight shudder pass through his
frame, and felt his words of cheering and of comfort fell unheeded on
his brother's ear. At length Mr. Hamilton returned.

"She lives, my son," were the first words he uttered, but his tone was
not joyful; "our beloved and gentle Mary yet lives, and soon, very soon
you shall meet, not to part on earth again."

Herbert gazed wildly in his face, he clasped his hands convulsively, and
then he bowed his head in a deep and fervent burst of thanksgiving.

"And Greville," said Percy, impatiently, "has he so soon consented?
father, you have not descended to entreaties, and to