igher state of being, in which the spirit will move and act, when
the earthly shell is shivered, and earthly infirmities are for ever
stilled. In the time of suffering we cannot think thus; but looking
back as I do now--when the near vicinity of another world bids me
regard my own past life almost as if it were another's--I feel it in
my inmost heart, and bless God for every suffering which has prepared
me thus early for his home. There is but one feeling, one wish
of earth, remaining," she continued, after a long pause of utter
exhaustion. "It is weak, perhaps, and wrong; but if--if Arthur could
but know that fatal secret which made me seem a worse deceiver than
I was--I know it cannot be, but it so haunts me. If I wedded one
Christian, may he not think there needed not this sacrifice--sacrifice
not of myself, but of his happiness. Oh! could I but--Hush! whose step
is that?" she suddenly interrupted herself; and with the effort of
strong excitement, started up, and laid her hand on her uncle's arm.

"Nay, my child, there is no sound," he replied soothingly, after
listening attentively for several moments.

"But there is. Hark, dost thou not hear it now? God of mercy! thou
hast heard my prayer--it is _his_!" she exclaimed, sinking powerlessly
back, at the moment that even Julien's duller ear had caught a rapid
step; and in another minute the branches were hastily pushed aside,
and Stanley indeed stood upon the threshold.

"Marie--and thus!" he passionately exclaimed; and flinging himself
on his knees beside her, he buried his face on her hand, and wept in
agony.

* * * * *

Nearly an hour passed ere Marie could rally from the agitation of
Arthur's unexpected presence sufficiently to speak. She lay with her
hand clasped in his, and his arm around her--realizing, indeed, to the
full, the soothing consolation of his presence, but utterly powerless
to speak that for which she had so longed to see him once again. The
extent of her weakness had been unknown till that moment either to
her uncle or herself, and Julien watched over her in terror lest the
indefinable change which in that hour of stillness was perceptibly
stealing over her features should be indeed the dim shadow of death.
To Arthur speech was equally impossible, save in the scarcely
articulate expressions of love and veneration which he lavished on
her. What he had hoped in thus seeking her he could not himself have
defined. H