ing-room the towers
beneath, whose shelter she had abided in such perfect happiness with
her doating father and apparently attached sister. They loved her no
longer, it is true. Perhaps it was her fault--(she would not allow
herself to conceive it could be a fault of _theirs_)--but at all
events she loved _them_ dearly as ever; and it was comforting to her
poor heart to catch a glimpse of their habitation, and know herself
within reach, should sickness or evil betide.

"If I should not survive my approaching time," thought Mary, often
surveying for hours, through her tears, the heights of Lexley Hall,
and fancying she could discern human figures moving from window to
window, or from terrace to terrace; "if I should be fated never to
behold this child, already loved--this child which is to be so dear a
blessing to us both--in my last hours my father would not surely
refuse to give me his blessing; nor would Selina persist in her
present cruel alienation. It is, indeed, a comfort to be here."

Her husband thought otherwise. To him nothing was more trying than
this compulsory sojourn at Lexley; not that he required other society
than that of his engaging and attached wife. At any other moment it
would have been delightful to him to enjoy the country pleasures
around them, with no officious intrusive world to interpose between
their affection. But in his present uncertainty as to his future
prospects, to be mocked by this empty show of proprietorship, and have
constantly before his eyes the residence of the man who had heaped
such contumely on his head, and inflicted such pain on the gentlest
and sweetest of human hearts, was a state of moral torment.

In the course of my fishing excursions--(for, thanks to Mr Sparks's
neighbourly liberality, I had a card of general access to his
parks)--I frequently met the young couple; and having no clue to their
secret sentiments, noticed, with deep regret, the sadness of Mary's
countenance and sinister looks of her husband. I feared--I greatly
feared--that they were not happy together. The General's daughter
repined, perhaps, after her former fortunes. The young husband sighed,
doubtless, over the liberty he had renounced.

It was spring time, and Lord Robert having satisfied his cravings
after the pleasures of London, by occasional bachelor visits on
pretence of business, the family were to remain at the Hall till after
the Easter holidays, so that Mary had every expectation of th