TER VII.

ROLAND AND OLIVER

'Twas old ancestral pride,
'Twas hope to raise a fallen house
From penury's disgrace,
To purchase back from usurers
The birthright of his race.
The Lump of Gold--C. MACKAY.

Mary's letter arrived not long after Louis's return to London; and her
calm, serious, beautifully-expressed farewell came upon him at last
like a blow which had been long impending, but of which preparation had
failed to lessen the weight.

'Ah!' said the Earl, when the chief part had been read to him, 'she is
admirable and excellent as ever. It is a great disappointment that she
is unattainable, but I am glad she writes so sensibly, and sees that it
is right you should think no more about her. After all, the connexion
with that fellow Ponsonby might have been very troublesome, and it is
well, as she says, that it was all over while you are so young.'

'Young or old, there is no other Mary in the world,' said Louis, sadly.

'We will say no more about it now. I understand you, but you will
think differently by-and-by.'

Louis did not answer. He knew that others might have been deceived by
the tardiness and uncertainty of his attachment, but that it had taken
such deep root, that he believed he could no more detach himself from
Mary than if she were his wife. His heart fainted as he thought of
years without the strength and soothing which her very letter breathed
forth; as he pictured to himself alternations between his chill and
stately home and the weary maze of London, foresaw persuasions from his
father to induce him to form some new attachment, and dreaded to think
of the facility with which, perhaps, he might still be led out of his
own convictions. Yet he still believed that patience and perseverance
would win the day, and tried to derive encouragement and energy from
the thought that this might be a trial sent for the very purpose of
training him in steadfastness.

A strong impulse drew him to Bryanston Square, where Miss Ponsonby was
very kind and warm, the more so because she had discovered how much
easier it had been to say than to unsay, and strongly regretted the
injustice she had done him. He had the satisfaction of talking for a
good hour about Mary, and of sending a message, that he did not write
because he wished to be guided by her in everything, and that he was
striving to work so as to please her. The conversation ended with some
good auguries