head on the table, while heavy sobs convulsed his frame. His
passions were strong, and it was something fearful to witness the
violence of his anguish. Isabel could not see his deep grief unmoved,
yet dared not attempt to comfort him. Oh how she had wronged him; how
keenly he felt his loss. She would not leave him, and yet she did not
wish to stay, and turned away to hide her emotion. When he grew more
composed, he advanced towards her saying, "It is getting late, Miss
Leicester, once more I thank you for all your kindness."

"Do not think any more of my cruel words." said Isabel, the tears
streaming from her eyes.

"Then you do not withhold your sympathy, even from me," he returned,
offering his hand.

"How can I," she replied, taking, though reluctantly, the offered hand.
"I am very sorry for you."

"Good news, Isabel, good news!" cried Alice coming in shortly after with
an open letter in her hand. "Everard is out of danger, and is recovering
rapidly, so we can soon come home, Mamma says."

"That is indeed good news," replied Isabel, who was really anxious to
get the children home, as the late events had cast a gloom over all.
Little Amy had more than once asked if Everard would die like the poor
lady, and all three had cried very bitterly about the pretty little girl
that was killed.

In three weeks more they were back at Elm Grove.

Everard was on the terrace to welcome them. He seemed very glad to see
them again, but his manner towards Isabel was changed, he was cordial
and kind, but still there was a difference. There was something
inexplicable, and shall we say that it pained her. Why did she on
retiring to her own room, shed bitter, bitter tears? She could scarcely
have told, had you asked her, but so it was.

Now that Everard had resolved to turn his thoughts from Isabel more
resolutely than ever, as it was useless any longer to indulge the hope
of one day possessing her, and had determined upon becoming a divinity
student, and as soon as possible be ordained and go as a missionary to
some distant land, and there amid new scenes and duties forget his dream
of happiness. Isabel found that she was not indifferent regarding
Everard, and often drew comparisons between her old love and the
would-be missionary, much to the disparagement of the former, and
thought that he was unnecessarily strict with regard to the forbidden
subject. Confess now, Isabel, do you not fancy since your return, that
he has discov