us to Grandison Place, though he
remained but a few days. I could not help feeling sad to see how the
sparkling vivacity of his youth had passed away, the diamond brightness
which reminded one of rippling waters in their sunbeams. But if less
brilliant, he was far more interesting. Stronger, deeper, higher
qualities were developed. The wind-shaken branches of thought stretched
with a broader sweep. The roots of his growing energies, wrenched by the
storm, struck firmer and deeper, and the wounded bark gave forth a pure
and invigorating odor.

I walked with him, the evening before his departure, in the avenue from
which the snow had been swept, leaving a smooth, wintry surface below. I
was wrapped in furs, and the cold, frosty air braced me like a pair of
strong arms.

I had so much to say to Richard, and now I was alone with him. I walked
on in silence, feeling as if words had never been invented to express
our ideas.

"You will never feel the want of a father's care and affection," at
length I said. "My father could not love you better if you were his own
son; and surely no own brother could be dearer, Richard, than you are
and ever will be to me. You must not look mournfully on the past, but
forward into a brightening future."

"I have but one object in life now," he answered, "and that is, to
improve the talents God has given me for the benefit of mankind. I am
not conscious of any personal hope or ambition, but a strong sense of
duty acts upon me, and will save me from the corrosion of disappointment
and the listlessness of despair."

"But you will not always feel so, Richard. You will experience a strong
reaction soon, and new-born hopes and aspirations will shine gloriously
to guide you upward and onward in your bright career. Think how young
you are yet, Richard."

"The consciousness of youth does not always bring joy. It cannot, when
youthful hopes are blighted, Gabriella. One cannot tear up at once the
deep-rooted affections of years. Never was a love planted deeper, firmer
than mine for you, before the soil of the heart had known the hardening
winds of destiny. Start not, Gabriella, I am not going to utter one
sentiment which, as a wife, you need blush to hear; but the parting
hour, like that of death, is an honest one, and I must speak as I feel.
May you never know or imagine my wretchedness when I believed you to be
my sister, knowing that though innocent, I had been guilty, and that I
could not love