d now that you are so blest, listen to my counsel. Florry, there is
a cloud no bigger than a man's hand resting low on the horizon of your
happiness--be warned in time. You know Mr. Stewart's firm, unwavering
principals of Protestantism; you know, too the aversion with which he
regards the priests of Rome; it may be a hard task now, but it will be
tenfold more difficult a year hence. Go to him at once, tell him you
were misguided and deceived, and reveal every circumstance connected
with that unhappy period. He will love you more for your candor.
Florry, you turn pale, as though unequal to the task. Oh, my cousin,
you prize his love more than truth; but the time will come when he
will prize truth more than your love! Florry, let me beg you tell him
all, and at once." She sank back, as if exhausted by her effort in
speaking so long, yet firmly retained Florence's hand.

"Mary, if I do this, it is at the risk of losing his esteem, which
I prize even more than his love. And after all, _I_ cannot see that
truth or duty requires this humiliating confession. Should he ever
question me, I should scorn to deceive him, and at once should tell
him all. But he does not suspect it, and _I_, being no longer in
danger or blinded, need not reveal the past."

Mournfully Mary regarded her beautiful cousin.

"Florry, if you conceal nothing now, he will esteem you more than ever
for hazarding his love in the cause of truth. If, in after years,
he discovers the past, he will tell you that, silently at least, you
deceived him, and reproach you with want of candor and firmness. Oh!
there is a fearful risk to run; he will never place confidence in you
again--be warned in time."

The entrance of Aunt Lizzy and Mrs. Carlton prevented further
conversation, and unclasping Mary's fingers, Florence disengaged her
hand and left the room.

Two days passed in furnishing and arranging their new home, and Mary
saw but little of her cousin. As evening closed in again, the invalid
watched from her couch the countenance of Mr. Stewart, as he sat
earnestly conversing with her aunt. Florence and Mr. and Mrs. Carlton
were out making some necessary purchases, and Dr. Bryant had been
absent on business of his own since morning.

"Florence is too young to marry, or even dream of it, at present, Mr.
Stewart; and besides, if I must be candid, I have always entertained
different views for her."

"Pardon me, but I believe I scarcely comprehend your meaning.