into the world, should be stigmatized with being the daughter of a divorced woman. "Impossible! It cannot be; I fear no threats, for I have done no evil.” "Lennard tells a different tale." Wretch "Wretch that he is!" faintly ejaculated Lady Herbert, overcome by indignation, and a sort of terror. that he is, he can never blast my fair fame." 66 Pardon ine, Mabel, a woman's fame is soon withered, even where crime does not blast it: the very question of its being doubted, sullies its purity, and the examinations, of fending, and proving, which, in the case of such an event as our separating, must be gone through, would have precisely the same effect on the mind of the public." Lady Herbert trembled; her husband was aware that he had gained a vantage ground. Oh, miserable estate of woman! Whose very virtues make her shrink from having those virtues questioned before the multitude, how is it that in cases of quarrel between married persons, the wife is invariably the sufferer? a woman must bend to the storm, brave it she dare not. Lord Herbert, after a pause, resumed. "There is one condition, Mabel, however, which would make me forget all your injustice, all your mistaken violence; namely, if from this moment, you cease to goad me with reproaches, cease to abuse my friends and my pleasures, cease to mar my domestic comfort, and be once again, the gay good-humoured being I loved; we may yet make up the quarrel. It is late in life to separate. The whole world. will laugh at us, no one will care which of us is in the right, or which in the wrong, but they will all join in making us the food of their scandal, and their topic of conversation, to the entertainment of the many, and the sorrow of the few who may care for us; and what shall we gain by it? much trouble, some regret; for persons cannot part after seventeen years of marriage, and not feel the wrench; whereas, look at the reverse of the proposition; we forget our mutual grievances, real or imaginary, we do so for our daughter's sake. We both determine from this moment, to start afresh in life; we surely do not dislike one another, Mabel, and the anniversary of our wedding-day, may be a renewal of our first happy years. Mabel, dear Mabel, what do you say?" And he drew his wife to his heart, that heart which was wholly his own, and which had no power to resist him. CHAPTER XVII. A HOME SCENE. If mine eyes do e'er declare, That nought material's not comprised- As all but thou, appear to me. SIR JOHN SUCKLING.. Scene, Lady Herbert's Bedroom-Time, the Morning after the Reconciliation. It is years since that sleeper has slept such a calm sweet sleep, as she has slept this past night, and many have been the days to which she has awoke, with a sense of corroding sorrow, preying on her first thoughts. But this morning, how differently does it break for her! She has dreamt no dream of happiness, which vanishes before the truth of day; it is not one of those cherished illusions, which have visited her in the night season, with the mockery of felicity. But her husband has renewed his vows; again he has sworn to be faithful and affectionate to her alone. Once again, Mabel Herbert awakes to felicity; she utters a prayer of thanksgiving to the Giver of all good gifts; she looks up with all the joyousness and pride of being a happy wife. Yes, love's bandeau was again upon the eyes of Lady Herbert, and sixteen years of wedded life, and all the rude realities she had passed through in that epoch, had not disenchanted her yet. She commenced, as it were, upon a new existence, though she trod the same path on which she had first entered the world, and her own beautiful truth of character was a guarantee to her, for that of her repentant husband's. Happiness possesses a reno vating power, which, like the virtues ascribed to the fabled secret of the philosopher, can endow the gifted with perpetual youth and joy. The alteration in Lord Herbert's manner and appearance, his constant presence at home, and the blessed change which took place in his general conduct, could not fail to strike the observant Sarah Herbert; and she expressed this, some weeks after, to her mother. "Now, mamma," she said, throwing her arms about her mother's neck; "now we are happy again; how delightful papa can be when he chooses." "He is always delightful in my eyes,” replied Lady Herbert. "Not so in mine, mamma-at least, he has not always been." "Hush, hush, my child, I shall not love you, if you say so." "Oh. if he always goes on as he does now, that will do, I shall love him then, almost as well as you, but if he ". "I desire you, Sarah, not to allow your tongue to utter a disrespectful word against your father; it is the only thing I could not forgive." 66 Well, mamma, dearest, you know I shall love him, so long as he loves you." At Herbert house, there was now assembled every evening, a happy family party: Captain Danesford, and Mr. Clermont, and Lord de Montmorenci, were the only visiters who came habitually, and without fail; two or three of Lord Herbert's other friends occasionally joined them; music, and drawing, and chess, were alternately resorted to for amusement, and Lady Herbert drew whilst her husband was engaged in playing at chess with Miss Clermont; her brother was again indulging in the dangerous pleasure of listening to Miss Herbert, whilst she sang, and Captain Danesford hung over Miss Clermont's chair, watching the game apparently, but in reality more hopelessly enamoured than ever. Mean while, was Miss Clermont living in a state of torpor? Was she alone, of all the persons living in, and breathing this atmosphere of love, exempt from its thraldom? Was she the only one who made no sacrifice to love's shrine? Far from it; there was, perhaps, none, who, under an exterior of freedom, endured a heavier bondage than Anna Clermont. Whom did she love? Not the one whom Lady Herbert imagined to be the object of her passion; not the person who had excited Sarah Herbert's suspicions-the man for whom she felt the sentiment was not, at that time, himself aware of it. Lord de Montmorenci also appeared to be without an interest among the group. He seemed absorbed in a book, and scarcely looked up when Miss Herbert asked him how he liked the music which she had just been singing; where his thoughts were, none can say, and when once Miss Herbert rose from the instrument, and went unperceived to the back of his chair, looking over the book he held, she saw that it was turned upside down, and said, laughing, "I have heard of some people, I forget what nation, who write from right to left, but I never before heard of any one who read upside down." Lord de Montmorenci laughed, but he coloured, and was confused; saying, he had ridden all day, and was tired, and the fact is, he added, "I was near asleep." This excuse passed current with all except Miss Clermont, but she whispered in his ear, "You were awake in the region of your thoughts, but where that region is, who can presume to say-shall I guess?" "Pray do." "So I will, and so I have done, only I am too much your friend to tell you my guess," and she walked away, to another part of the room, and resumed her seat, but Miss Herbert called her, to join in a duet, and she replied, "I must first checkmate Lord Herbert, and then I will come; three moves will do it." "How provoking!" he exclaimed, pushing over the chess-men, "I had so much the best of the game." "Well, my lord, if that idea consoles you for defeat, you are welcome to retain it; I aspire to conquer, and if I succeed, that is all I care about;" she looked in a very peculiar manner at Lord Herbert, as she spoke. There is an electricity in the eye, which communicates itself to that of others, and his were fastened upon her with an expression of curiosity, which seemed to ask, "What do you mean?” But Miss Clermont went to the pianoforte, and commenced the duet Miss Herbert had asked her to play with her. Lord Herbert, truly alive to the power of music, listened attentively, and turned the leaves of the score. From time to time, Lady Herbert looked up from her drawing, and thought, "how happy I am, that he should so love his daughter!" The music over, Mr. Clermont contrived to draw Miss Herbert into another apartment, by requesting her to look at some stuffed birds, which he had ordered to be brought to offer to her assistance in executing some ornamental illuminations for an album. Nothing could be more brilliant than their dyes, and she admired them, but said, "You must forgive me for adding, that I cannot accept them; I dislike looking at all objects of natural curiosity, which are thus preserved in cases; the mockery of life is painful to me. After the first moment of admiring their hues, the next is a sensation of what right had I to deprive these beautiful creatures of life, of enjoyment; to transfix them with pins, or to stick their bodies with glue on a piece of wood?" Mr. Clermont replied, laughing, "You did not do it; besides, most of these birds died a natural death. I attempted to bring them over to you alive, and they died on their passage. Ah! Miss Herbert, I could live and die for you; I told you so when I went away-I tell you so now; once more forgive me, but while there is life, there is hope; and though I am now, beneath you, yet bid me only hope, and I shall achieve such deeds of glory as will raise me even to dare to aspire to you.” He had caught her hand as he spoke; he had gazed at her with that genuine expression of a real passion, which is at once humble, yet bold. Miss Herbert could not but be touched by his sincerity-his ardour; her colour went and came-she was for a moment silent; then resuming her selfpossession, she replied, "Dear Mr. Clermont, I feel for you the affection of a sister; but were you a crowned monarch, I should never feel more. I never could become your wife." There was that ingenuous sincerity of voice and manner in these few decisive words, which told him the decree was irreversible-he dropped her hand, and only replied, "Forgive me." Then shortly after, commanded himself sufficiently to bid Lady Herbert good night, and left the house. Miss Herbert remained downcast, and it was evident something had occurred to vex her. Miss Clermont said to her, "I regret what has passed; how ridiculous my poor brother is! I wonder how he can |