red with Julian in the stilly moonlight, and their low voices
were heard by each other amid the din of the roaring cataract.

Ernest was troubled. He was jealous even of a sister's love, and looked
coldly on the aspiring Julian.

"He must prove himself worthy of Edith," he said. "He must not follow
her to Grandison Place, till he can bring credentials, establishing his
claims to confidence and regard."

Before we parted at night Edith drew me aside, and told me that her
mother had consented to leave the decision of her destiny to _time_,
which would either prove Julian's claims to her love, or convince her
that he was unworthy of her regard. He was not permitted to accompany
her home; but she was sure he would follow, with testimonials, such as a
prince need not blush to own.

"How strange, how very strange it seems," she said, her eyes beaming
with that soft and sunny light which comes from the day-spring of the
heart, "for me to look forward to a future such as now I see, through a
flowery vista of hope and love. How strange, that in so short a time so
mighty a change should be wrought! Had Ernest remained single, my heart
would have known no vacuum, so entirely did he fill, so exclusively did
he occupy it. But since his marriage it has seemed a lonely temple with
a deserted shrine. Julian has strewed flowers upon the altar, and their
fragrance has perfumed my life. Even if they wither, their odor will
remain and shed sweetness over my dying hour."

Sweet, angelic Edith! may no untimely blight fall on thy garland of
love, no thorns be found with its glowing blossoms, no canker-worm of
jealousy feed on their early bloom.

The morning of our departure, as I looked back where Julian stood, pale
and agitated, following the receding form of Edith, with a glance of the
most intense emotion, I saw a gentleman approach the pillar against
which he was leaning, whose appearance riveted my attention. He was a
stranger, who had probably arrived the evening before, and, preoccupied
as Julian was, he extended his hand eagerly to meet the grasp of his. He
was tall, much taller than Julian, and of a very stately mien. He looked
as if he might be in the meridian of life, and yet his hair, originally
black, was mingled with snowy locks around the temples, and on the crown
of his head. I saw this as he lifted his hat on approaching Julian, with
the firm, proud step which indicates intellectual power. What was there
about this stra