quarter.

"Oh, Alice--lost! lost! lost to me forever!" exclaimed he, in agony,
as he paced, with hurried strides, up and down the floor of his little
room. "Oh, my mother, if it were not for thee, I should pray that this
wretched heart of mine would soon be stilled in death."

If any human being will look candidly upon the events of his own
life, and the history of his own heart, with a view to examine the
causes of suffering, he will be constrained to admit that by far the
greater portion of his miseries have originated in misapprehension,
and might have been easily prevented or cured by a little calm
investigation. It was so with William Dulan, who was at this moment
suffering the most acute agony of mind he ever felt in his life, from
a misconception, a doubt, which a ten minutes' walk to the house of
Colonel Delany, and a ten minutes' talk with Alice, would have
dissipated forever.

If Richard Delany was anxious before to wed his cousin for love, he
was now half crazy to take that step by which both love and ambition
would be gratified to the utmost.

He actually loved her ten times as much as formerly. The "beggar" was
beautiful, but the baroness was bewitching! Spurred on, then, he
determined to move heaven, earth and the other place, if necessary, to
accomplish his object. He beset Lady Hilden with the most earnest
prayers, and protestations, and entreaties, reminding her that he
loved and wooed her before the dawn of her prosperity, and appealed to
her for the disinterestedness of his passion. But all in vain. He even
besought his father to use his influence with Alice in his favor.
Colonel Delany, his objections being all now removed, urged his niece,
by her affection, by her compassion, and, finally, after some delicate
hesitation, by her gratitude, to accept the proffered hand of his son.
But Alice was steadfast in her rejection.

"A change had come o'er the spirit of her dream!"

Alas, alas! that a change of fortune should work such a change of
spirit! Alice Raymond was now Lady Hilden. Her once holy, loving, meek
blue eyes were now splendid with light and joy. Upon cheek and lip,
once so delicately blooming, now glanced and glowed a rich, bright
crimson. Her once softly falling step had become firm, elastic and
stately. "A peeress in my own right," was the thought that sent a
spasmodic joy to the heart of Alice. I am sorry she was not more
philosophical, more exalted, but I cannot help it, so it