was thus engaged, some one knocked at the door, which she
unlocked, and the next instant, another lady, to whom the reader has
been already introduced, entered the chamber. It was the same person
whom we have called the Lady Helen, in her interview with Wilton
Brown; and there was still in the expression of her countenance that
same look of tender melancholy which is generally left upon the face
by long grief acting upon an amiable heart. It was, indeed, less the
expression of a settled gloom on her own part, than of sympathy with
the sorrows of others, rendered more active by sorrows endured
herself. On the present occasion she had a note in her hand, which
she held out towards the fair girl whom she had interrupted at her
toilet, saying, with a faint smile, "There, Caroline--I hope it may
bring you good news, dear girl." The other took it eagerly, and broke
the seal, with hands that trembled so much that they almost let the
paper drop.
"Oh, Lady Helen," cried the younger lady, while the colour came and
went in her cheek, and her eyes sparkled, and then again nearly
overflowed, "we must, indeed, we must stay over to-day. He says he
will come down to see me this afternoon. Indeed we must stay; for it
is my last chance, Helen dear, my last chance of happiness in life."
"We will stay, of course, Caroline," replied the other; "but I trust,
my poor girl, that if you see him, you will act both wisely and
firmly. Let him not move you to yield any farther than you have done;
left him not move you, my sweet Caroline, to remain in a degrading
and painful state of doubt. Act firmly, and as you proposed but
yesterday, in order, at least, if you do no more, not to be, as it
were, an accomplice in his ill-treatment of yourself."
"Oh no!" replied the other--"oh no! Fear not, dear lady, that I will
deal with him otherwise than firmly. But yet you know he is my
husband, Helen, and I cannot refuse to obey his will, except where he
requires of me a breach of higher duties."
"Ay," replied the Lady Helen. "When he claims you openly as his wife,
Caroline, then he has a right to command, and no one can blame you
for obeying; but he must not take the whole advantage of his
situation as your husband, without giving you the name and station,
or suffering you to assume the character of his wife. Let him now do
you justice in these respects, or else, dear Caroline, leave him!
fly from him! strive to forget him! Look upon yourself as widowed,
and try to bear your sorrow as an in