she had ever
known, she had plighted her faith in the temple of her own heart to
him--and as long as the plight was of value in his eyes, it could not
be withdrawn. How truly did Edward Lynne feel that she indeed would be
a crown of glory to his old age, as well as to his manhood's prime!

The scene--for there are "scenes" wherever human passion runs
wild--ended by Mrs. Myles working herself into the belief that she
was the most ill-used old lady in the British dominions. She commanded
Edward from her presence; and though Rose wept and knelt at her feet,
she refused to be pacified, declaring that if it had not been for the
rheumatism, she would herself act as nurse to Helen, and not suffer so
low-minded a creature as Rose Dillon to look on the splendour of her
cousin's house. What she thought of that splendour, an extract from
a letter--not the first or second--which replied to those she had
received from Edward, will best tell:

"I have seen a great deal to astonish--every thing seems wonderful in
London--only I wish the people seemed more really happy. I have been
thinking that happiness is not a sudden thing like joy; it is more
quiet--_it takes time to be happy_--and the people here have no time.
In the midst of the gayest party, they do not suffer themselves
to enjoy it, but keep hurrying on to the next. I remember when we
were children, Helen and I, we have sat an hour over a bunch of
wildflowers, yet not discovered half their beauties; surely excitement
and happiness are not twin-born. Since Helen has been better, numbers
of ladies have called, so beautifully dressed, and so gentle-mannered
and reserved, one so very like the other, that they might have all
been brought up at the same school. They never appear to confide in
each other, but make a talk, after their own calm fashion, about small
things. Still, when they talk, _they do not say much_, considering how
highly bred they are. I have listened throughout an entire morning (a
fashionable morning, Edward, does not begin until three o'clock in the
afternoon), and really could not remember a single observation made
by a drawing-room full of ladies. _We_ could not talk ten minutes
with dear Mr. Stokes, without hearing something that we could not help
remembering all the days of our lives. It is wonderful how superior
Helen is (I am not afraid to tell you so) to every one around her;
there is a natural loftiness of mind and manner visible in her every
movement