. The
liveliest woman of her age that I ever met with.

Brussels, May 7.--My blessing on the old Belgian cities. Mrs. Eyrecourt
is so eager to get away from them that she backs me in hurrying the
marriage, and even consents, sorely against the grain, to let the
wedding be celebrated at Brussels in a private and unpretending way.
She has only stipulated that Lord and Lady Loring (old friends) shall be
present. They are to arrive tomorrow, and two days afterward we are to
be married.

*****

(An inclosure is inserted in this place. It consists of the death-bed
confession of Mr. Winterfield's wife, and of the explanatory letter
written by the rector of Belhaven. The circumstances related in
these documents, already known to the reader, are left to speak for
themselves, and the Extracts from the Diary are then continued.)

*****

Bingen, on the Rhine, May 19.--Letters from Devonshire at last, which
relieve my wretchedness in some small degree. The frightful misfortune
at Brussels will at least be kept secret, so far as I am concerned.
Beaupark House is shut up, and the servants are dismissed, "in
consequence of my residence abroad." To Father Newbliss I have privately
written. Not daring to tell him the truth, I leave him to infer that
my marriage engagement has been broken off, he writes back a kind and
comforting letter. Time will, I suppose, help me to bear my sad lot.
Perhaps a day may come when Stella and her friends will know how cruelly
they have wronged me.

London, November 18, 1860.--The old wound has been opened again. I met
her accidentally in a picture gallery. She turned deadly pale, and left
the place. Oh, Stella! Stella!

London, August 12, 1861.--Another meeting with her. And another shock
to endure, which I might not have suffered if I had been a reader of the
marriage announcements in the newspapers. Like other men, I am in the
habit of leaving the marriage announcements to the women.

I went to visit an agreeable new acquaintance, Mr. Romayne. His wife
drove up to the house while I was looking out of window. I recognized
Stella! After two years, she has made use of the freedom which the law
has given to her. I must not complain of that, or of her treating me
like a stranger, when her husband innocently introduced us. But when are
were afterward left together for a few minutes--no! I cannot write down
the merciless words she said to me. Why am I fool enough to be as fond
of her as ever?

Beau