soon expires," I said.

"I shall not fail to be at my duty, Wilson," continued Sinclair. "But
there is important business to do before I leave this city."

"You have entered, Rupert, into some rash engagement."

"Into an engagement--yes; not rashly, I believe; for I have held
consultation with my heart--deep, earnest communings, that have
sanctioned my fondest inclination."

"Beware, Sinclair!" I answered. "In some cases, the heart is no safe
monitor; and inclination and conviction become convertible terms."

"You know my secret, Wilson."

"I can guess it."

"You saw her last night. I wished you to see her. I desired to hear from
your lips a confirmation of the regard she has inspired in one"----

I shook my head.

"You are right--you are right," proceeded Sinclair, hastily. "You shall
not speak. You shall not even tell me how divine a being Heaven has
placed within my reach. You shall not be involved in the calamity which
an irrevocable act may bring upon two whose crime it is to love too
well."

"Rupert," I replied, "I am not disposed to desert you at so critical a
period of our life. We are both young. You are enthusiastic; your good
opinion of mankind has before now led you into error. Have you well
pondered on this step? Can you rely on Elinor Travis."

"What do you mean?"

"Is she as brave as she is gentle--as faithful as she is fair?"

"I would answer for her with my life."

"Yes, or with twenty lives, if you had them, for the venture. Yet you
have not known her long."

"Long enough to value and to love her. Does it require an age to
discover truthfulness so palpable as hers?"

"I have done, Sinclair," said I. "God grant you may be happy!"

"You return to London, then?"

"Such is my intention."

"You do wisely. I would not have you stay with me. You must be clear
from all participation in this business, let it end as it may. I know my
father. His anger and his vengeance, however undeserved, would fall on
you."

"Would these were my greatest fears!" I answered, with a sigh.

"Fear not for _me_, Wilson. The happiness of your friend is bound up
with that of Elinor Travis. I tell you, in all sincerity, I cannot live
without her. Fate decrees our movements. No woman but she has made me
conscious of that great fountain of love which lies within the bosom of
us all--none has had power to direct the stream, and to enchain me,
heart and soul, to her will."

"And should that will," I quickly u