ver, never love.

Rachael Closs forced back the triumph that swelled haughtily in her
bosom, for the old lady's acknowledgment fired her heart like burning
incense; but she bowed her head, as if she had committed the fault, and
turning to her husband, appealed to him:

"I cannot--I have no language in which to say how this kindness
overwhelms me. Pray tell her from this hour I forget that she has not
always thought so kindly of me as I have deserved."

Lord Hope was greatly agitated. The keen eyes of that old lady, as they
turned upon his face, troubled him. His very lips were white as he
attempted to open them, not to utter the elegant speech suggested by his
wife, for his heart seemed to break forth in a single sentence:

"Countess, have the justice to blame me if any wrong has been done to
you or yours. As for this lady, no more devoted mother ever lived than
she has been to your daughter's child!"

A burst of sobs arose from the other side of the room, and Lady Clara
came forward, her face wet with tears, her mouth quivering.

"Indeed, indeed she has! Oh, grandmamma, do _love_ her, because she has
been so good to me and everybody else!"

Lady Carset reached forth her hand gently, and with delicate cordiality;
but there was no yearning of the heart there, such as had marked her
reception of that young girl.

Lady Hope cared very little for this. She had attained the great aim of
her life in this recognition; anything like warmth of affection would
have been as irksome to her as it was impossible to the old countess.
She took the little hand, pressed her lips upon it, and retreated from
the room, keeping her face toward the old lady, as if she were retiring
from the presence of a queen.

The old countess stood up bravely, and bent her delicate person with the
exquisite grace of a lady of the olden time, as her guests disappeared.
The moment they were gone she turned to seek her couch; but her limbs
lost their strength, her feet became entangled in the satin train, and
she would have fallen to the carpet but for Lady Clara, who sprang
forward and held her up.

"Dear me, how you tremble! Oh, grandmamma, don't! I never saw you cry
before. It breaks my heart!"

The poor old lady was trembling in all her limbs, and crying like a
child. It had been a hard cross for her feebleness to take up when she
admitted that man and woman to her presence. It seemed as if her own
dead child had stood between them, and with