bility. Now, I see you can feel, and feel acutely. I
shall henceforth think of you with interest, and speak of you with
tenderness."

"You are the dearest, sweetest creature in the world," she exclaimed,
putting both arms around me with unwonted gentleness; "I shall always
love you, and will try to remember all you have said to me to-night. We
shall meet in the summer, and you shall see, oh yes, you shall see. Dear
me--what a fright I have made of myself."

She had risen, and was glancing at herself in the Psyche, which,
supported by two charming Cupids, reflected the figure full length.

"I never will cry again if I can help it," she exclaimed. "These horrid
red circles round the eyes,--and my eyes, too, are as red as a rabbit's.
The heroines of novels are always said to look lovelier in tears; but
you are the only person I ever saw who looked pretty after weeping."

"Did you ever see me weep, Madge?"

"I have noticed more than you think I have,--and believe me, Gabriella,
Ernest will have to answer for every tear he draws from those angel eyes
of yours."

"Margaret, you know not what you say. Ernest loves me ten thousand times
better than I deserve. He lavishes on me a wealth of love that humbles
me with a consciousness of my own demerits. His only fault is loving me
too well. Never never breathe before Mrs. Linwood or Edith,--before a
human being, the sentiment you uttered now. Never repeat the idle gossip
you may have heard. If you do speak of us, say that I have known woman's
happiest, most blissful lot. And that I would rather be the wife of
Ernest one year, than live a life of endless duration with any other."

"It must be a pleasant thing to be loved," said Margaret, and her black
eyes flashed through the red shade of tears.

"And to love," I repeated. "It is more blessed to give, than to
receive."

A sympathetic chord was touched,--there was music in it. Who ever saw a
person weep genuine tears, without feeling the throbbings of
humanity,--the drawings of the chain that binds together all the sons
and daughters of Adam? If there are such beings, I pity them.

Let them keep as far from me as the two ends of the rainbow are from
each other. The breath of the Deity has frozen within them.

CHAPTER XL.

The morning of Margaret's departure, when Mr. Regulus was standing with
gloves and hat in hand waiting her readiness, it happened that I was
alone in the parlor with him a few moments.

"You