facility when he had not--debts which he did or did not
pay, as the case might be.

It was during a winter spent at Brussels that he made the
acquaintance of Charles Moore, a young Englishman with tastes
identical with his own, but inferior to him in ability,
talents, and even in principles. A sort of partnership was
formed between them, Mr. Linders undertaking most of the work,
and the Englishman contributing his small fortune as capital;
and not only his own, but that of his sister Magdalen, a young
girl who had come abroad with her brother, the only near
relation she had in the world. M. Linders had been introduced
to her, and she, in complete ignorance of the real character
of either him or her brother Charles, had, with all the
simplicity of eighteen, straightway fallen in love with the
handsome gentlemanlike man, who, on his side, made no secret
of the impression produced on him by the great loveliness of
the English girl. Moore, who was a thoroughly heartless scamp,
had not the least compunction in agreeing to a marriage
between his sister and this man, with whose character and mode
of life he was perfectly well acquainted; indeed, it suited
his views so well, that he did what lay in his power to
forward it. There were no difficulties in the way; the two
were almost alone in the world. He had been left her sole
guardian by their old father, who had died a twelve-month
before; and she, trusting her brother entirely, was glad to
leave everything in his hands. The marriage was accomplished
with all possible speed, and it was not till nearly two months
later that an accident revealed to Magdalen Linders, what
indeed in any case she must have discovered before long--what
manner of man this was she had got for her husband.

Then she did not pine away, nor sicken with despair, being of
a great courage, strong to bear evil and misfortune, and not
made of the stuff that gives way under cruel deception and
disappointment. She uttered only one reproach--

"You should have told me of all this, Adolphe," she said.

"You would not have married me," he answered gloomily.

"I--I do not know. Ah, I loved you so much, and so truly!"

And she did love him still; and clung to him to the last, but
not the less was she broken-hearted, so far as any enjoyment
of life was concerned; and her husband saw it. All sense of
rejoicing seemed to die out of her heart for ever. She hated
the splendour with which he sometimes surrounde