away, and she generally relapsed into her wild and unsettled reveries.

When the doctor arrived, he sat with her in silence for a considerable
time--listening to her incoherencies from an anxiety to ascertain,
as far as possible, by what she might utter, whether her insanity was
likely to be transient or otherwise. The cause of it he had already
heard from report generally, and a more exact and circumstantial account
on that day from her brother William.

"It is difficult," he at length said, "to form anything like an exact
opinion upon the first attack of insanity, arising from a disappointment
of the heart. Much depends upon the firmness of the general character,
and the natural force of their common sense. If I were to judge, not
only by what I have heard from this most beautiful and interesting
creature, as well as from the history of her heart, which her brother
gave me so fully, I would say that I think this attack will not be a
long one. I am of opinion that her mind is in a state of transition not
from reason but to it; and that this transition will not be complete
without much physical suffering. The state of her pulse assures me of
this, as does the coldness of her hands. I should not be surprised if,
in the course of this very night she were attacked with strong fits.
These, if they take place, will either restore her to reason or confirm
her insanity. Poor girl," said the amiable man, looking on her whilst
his eyes filled with tears, "he must have been a heartless wretch to
abandon such a creature. My dear Jane," he added, addressing her, for
he had been, and still is, familiar with the family; "I am sorry to find
you are so unwell, but you will soon be bettor. Do you not know me."

"It was sworn," said the unhappy mourner; "it was sworn and I felt
this here--here "--and she placed her hand upon her heart; "I felt this
little tenant of my poor bosom sink--sink, and my blood going from my
cheeks when the words were uttered. More beautiful! more beautiful! why,
and what is love if it is borne away merely by beauty? I loved him
not for his beauty alone. I loved him because he--he--because he loved
me--but at first I did love him for his beauty; well, he has found
another more beautiful; and his own Jane Sinclair, his Fawn of
Springvale, as he used to call me, is forgotten. But mark me--let none
dare to blame him--he only fulfilled his destined part--the thing was
foredoomed, and I knew that by my suppression