ge.
Lord Alphingham he did not name. Lady Helen's letter was a curious
mixture of reproach and affection, complaint and congratulation; and
Annie might have found it difficult to discover in what manner she was
affected towards the Viscount, or with regard to the elopement itself.
Perhaps of all the letters she received from home, Lilla's was the most
irritating to her, for it was written in all the bitter indignation, the
unchecked reproaches of a young and ardent spirit, in whose eyes the
heartlessness of her letter was inexcusable, and she wrote as she
thought. Annie, as might have been expected, deigned her no reply. A few
languidly written letters her mother received from her during her tour;
but the chief of her correspondence was reserved for Miss Malison and
the lady who had so ably assisted their secret plans. The friendly
influence of Mr. Hamilton succeeded, after a few days, in restoring his
friend to comparative outward composure, although the wound within, he
too sadly felt, was beyond his power to heal.

A few days passed in peace. Mrs. Hamilton and her family were
anticipating with pleasure the quiet happiness of Oakwood, and the event
then to take place. Scarcely a week intervened before their departure,
when they were one afternoon startled by the appearance of Grahame,
whose countenance bore the pallid hue of death, and every action denoted
the most fearful agitation. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, Caroline and St.
Eval, were alone present, and they gazed on him in unfeigned alarm.

"Hamilton, I start for Brussels to-night," was his salutation, as he
entered.

"Brussels!" repeated Mr. Hamilton. "Grahame, you are beside yourself.
What affairs can call you to Brussels so suddenly?"

"Affairs--business; aye, of such weight, I cannot rest till they are
attended to. Hamilton, you are astonished; you think me mad; oh, would
to God I were!" and striking his forehead with his clenched hand, he
paced the room in agony.

Ere his friend could approach or address him, he suddenly paused before
Caroline, who was watching him in alarm and commiseration, and grasping
her arm, with a pressure that pained her, he said, in a voice which
blanched her cheek with horror--

"Hamilton, look on this girl, and, as you love me, answer me. Could you
be a Roman father, did you see her dishonoured,--the victim, the wilful
victim of a base, a treacherous, miserable villain?--say, could you wash
away the blackening stain with blood--