hands, she wept bitterly.

Who can comprehend the depth and devotedness of woman's love? Could it
be possible that there still lingered in her crushed heart a single atom
of affection for that branded villain, who had so cruelly deceived her?
Philosophy may condemn her--human reason itself may scoff at her--but
from her pure heart could not utterly be obliterated the sincere and
holy love which she had conceived for that unworthy object. To her might
have been applied the beautiful words of the poet Campbell:

"Let the eagle change his plume,
The leaf its hue, the flower its bloom,
But ties around that heart were spun
Which would not, could not be undone."

Before the expiration of the prescribed five minutes, the Chevalier was
dressed, and ready to depart. Turning towards Alice, he regarded her
with a look which was eloquently expressive of grief, remorse and
sorrow. His breast heaved convulsively; he was evidently struggling with
the most powerful emotions. A single tear rolled down his cheek--he
hastily wiped it away--murmured, "Farewell, Alice, forever!"--and
reminded by an imperious gesture from her father that the scene could
continue no longer, he turned calmly and walked out of the room. Mr.
Goldworthy followed him to the street door, and saw him depart from the
house; then, with a deep-drawn sigh, he returned to his guests, who were
naturally eager to know the nature of the difficulty. In answer to their
inquiries, the old gentleman said--

"My dear friends, do not, I entreat you, press me for an explanation of
this most melancholy affair. Suffice it for me to say, the Chevalier
Duvall has proved himself to be utterly unworthy of my daughter. The
marriage which has taken place, though not legally void, is _morally_
so. I beg of everyone present to respect my feelings as a father and as
a man, so far as to preserve a strict silence in reference to this
painful matter. The Chevalier Duvall has departed from the house, and
will never see my daughter more."

The required promise was given, and the guests took their leave,
experiencing feelings of a far different nature from those which had
animated them at the commencement of the evening. They had come in the
happy anticipation of witnessing the consummation of a beloved friend's
felicity; they went away oppressed by a painful uncertainty as to the
nature of the difficulty which had arisen in reference to the husband,
and chilled by a f