e
followed, neither looking at the other; then Mowbray said:

"You deceive yourself, Charles, if you imagine that this beautiful and
wealthy young girl spends a second thought upon myself. I was to her
only a passing shadow--another name to add to her long list of
captives. Well! I gave her the sincere love of an honest heart, such a
love as no woman has the right to spurn. She did spurn it. Well! I am
not a child to sob and moan, and go and beg her on my knees to love
me--no! I love her more than ever, Charles; all my boasting was mere
boasting and untrue--I love her still--but that heart, and it shall
not issue forth but with my life. I love her! but I will never place
myself in the dust before a woman who has scorned me. Silence and
self-control I have, and these will sustain me."

"Oh, Ernest! Ernest!"

"You seem strangely moved by my words," said Mowbray; "but you should
not fancy my love so fatal. It is a delirium at times, but Heaven be
thanked, it cannot drive me mad. Now let us stop speaking of these
things. When I think of that young girl, all my calmness leaves me.
Oh, she was so frank and true a soul, I thought!--so sincere and
bold!--so lovely, and with such a strength of heart! I was deceived.
Well, well--it seems to be the fate of men, to find the ideal of their
hearts unworthy. Let us speak of it no further."

And suppressing his emotion by a violent effort, Mowbray added in a
voice perfectly calm and collected:

"There is our cottage, Charles--Roseland; and I see Lucy waiting for
us under the roses on the porch--she always looks for me, I believe."

CHAPTER XIX.

HOFFLAND EXERTS HIMSELF TO AMUSE THE COMPANY.

Lucy was a young girl of nineteen or twenty, with the brightest face,
the most sparkling eyes, and the merriest voice which ever adorned
woman entering her prime. Her laughter was contagious, and the
listener must perforce laugh in unison. Her face drove away gloom, as
the sun does; her smile was pure merriment, routing all cares; and
Mowbray's sad countenance became again serene, his lips smiled.

Lucy bowed demurely to the boy, who held out his hand laughing.

"Oh! Ernest and myself are sworn friends," he said; "and the fact is,
Miss Lucy, I had serious doubts whether I should not kiss you--I love
you so much--for Ernest's sake!"

And Hoffland pursed up his lips, prepared for all things.

Lucy was so completely overcome by laughter at this extraordinary
speech, that for a m