ission," he answered;
"and now, good-by, Alice! May you be as happy as you deserve!"

"And may you, also, Fred.!" said Alice, with tears in her eyes. One
lingering pressure of the hand, and he was gone.

"Noble heart!" exclaimed Alice; "why could I not love him? Alas! a
tyrant grasp is on my soul, which, while it delights to hold me in its
toils, and tantalize and torment, will not love me, or let me love
another!"

"Alice!" said a voice within.

"Yes, mother, I'm coming," replied the daughter, entering the hall with
a languid step, and proceeding to divest herself of shawl and bonnet.

"You have had a long stroll and look fatigued," remarked the fond
parent, noticing her daughter's flushed cheeks and hurried respiration,
as she flung herself into a large rocking-chair by the open window.
Where is Fred.?"

"Gone home," said Alice.

"Why did he not come in and rest a while?"

"I forgot to invite him, I believe," returned Alice, briefly.

"And did you not ask him to call at any future time?"

"No, mother; he is going to Texas."

"Indeed! How long has he entertained that idea?" asked Mrs. Orville in a
tone of astonishment.

"Not long, I fancy. I told him to find cousin Josephine and entreat her
to write to me," said Alice, fanning her face with a great, flapping
feather fan.

"I hope he may do so; and much do I wish your cousin might be here to
pass the winter, for I fear you will be lonely without some companion of
your own age," said Mrs. Orville, attentively regarding her daughter.

"O, never fear for me, mother!" returned Alice. "I assure you I have
ample resources for enjoyment in my own breast. They only need occasion
to be called forth and put in exercise."

"I hope it may prove thus," responded the tender mother. "Let us now
retire to our pleasant chamber, and I will do myself the pleasure of
listening to your rich voice, while you read a portion of Scripture, and
sing a sacred hymn."

Thus mother and daughter retired; and while the old heart that had
passed beyond the youth-life of love and passion, rested calmly in its
tranquil sleep, the young heart by its side throbbed wildly, trembled,
wept and sighed; tossing restlessly on its pillow, haunted by ill-omened
dreams and ghastly phantom-shapes too hideous for reality. For there is
no rest, or calm, or quiet, for the passion-haunted breast.

CHAPTER XII.

"'Twas one of love's wild freaks, I do s