dare not whisper it now save to thee, who would
die rather than reveal it. Arthur, dearest Arthur, it was no Christian
whom I wedded. We had been betrothed from early childhood, though I
knew it not; and when the time came, I could not draw down on me a
father's curse, or dash with agony a heart that so cherished, so loved
me, by revelation of a truth which could avail me nothing, and would
bring him but misery. Ferdinand was my cousin--a child of Israel, as
myself."

"Now heaven bless thee for those words, my own, true, precious Marie!"
exclaimed Stanley, in strong emotion, and clasping her still closer,
he pressed his quivering lips to her forehead, starting in agony as he
marked the cold, damp dews which had gathered upon it, too truly
the index of departing life. He besought her to speak no more--the
exertion was exhausting her; she smiled faintly, drank of the reviving
draught which Julien proffered, and lay for a few minutes calm and
still.

"I am better now," she said, after an interval. "It was only the
excitement of speaking that truth, which I have so long desired to
reveal--to clear my memory from the caprice and inconstancy with which
even thy love must have charged me; and now, Arthur, promise me that
thou wilt not mourn me too long: that thou wilt strive to conquer the
morbid misery, which I know, if encouraged, will cloud thy whole life,
and unfit thee for the glorious career which must otherwise be thine.
Do not forget me wholly, love, but deem it not a duty to my memory
never to love again. Arthur, dearest, thou canst bestow happiness on
another, and one of thine own faith, even such happiness as to have
been thy wife would have given me. Do not reject the calm rest and
peacefulness, which such love will bring to thee, though now thou
feelest as if the very thought were loathing. She will speak to thee
of me; for Jewess as she knew me, she has loved and tended me in
suffering, and so wept my banishment, that my frozen tears had well
nigh flowed in seeing hers. Seek her in Isabella's court, and try to
love her, Arthur--if at first merely for my sake, it will soon, soon
be for her own."

Impressively and pleadingly, these words fell on Arthur's aching
heart, even at that moment when he felt to comply with them was and
must ever be impossible. When time had done its work, and softened
individual agony, they returned again and yet again; and at each
returning, seemed less painful to obey.

"And Isabel