This repeated again and again, in the same simple, earnest manner, was all he could obtain. Remonstrance, argument, entreaty, were alike lost on her-there was always the same answer-she was his wife.

His wife!.. this miserable, soulless, abject thing, his wife! how he hated her for the words, and still more, for their truth!

For her, her heart was full of softness now. His previous kindness had re-awakened all her tenderness, and he had spoken of his child as though he cared for it, and grieved at its loss. This did what nothing else could do-it opened the flood gates of her tears, and she wept- how passionately, how wildly, we

already know.

And a new spirit seemed to have arisen in her;-for she no longer feared him as one too powerful to be withstood. Simple as she was, she felt that in this instance, she was right. Her father would have uphled her, for she was his wife.

But when, at last, weary of her tears and entreaties, and anxious to end a scene that seemed so fruitless, he once more, and with greater harshness, enjoined her to depart, and, offering her money, declared that, come what

might, this should be their last interviewthen, stung to the quick, and wild with passionate despair, she turned upon him, and vowing that from that instant he never should leave her more, clung to him with a tenacity that only such despair could give—a strength surprising in one so worn-so feeble-and then began the fearful struggle that ended, at last, in her untimely fate.

CHAPTER VII.

Alone in that dark sorrow, hour after hour crept by ; Star after star looked palely in, and sank adown the sky.

WHITTIER.

Over the brink of it

Picture it—think of it,

Dissolute man!

-the daring

Last look of despairing

Fixed on futurity—————

Hoop.

unheard she prays-the death-pang's o'er. LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL.

LORD and Lady Henry were indefatigable in their efforts to serve poor Marie. Unfortunately for her, business had taken Sir Edmund Harpur into the country, the very day of her arrival in London, which occasioned a delay, that, to her anxious mind, was torture; yet, Lord Henry considered it essential that he

should be consulted first of all, not only on account of his office, which gave him extraordinary powers of serving her, but also to ensure, as far as possible, the secresy which on all accounts was so greatly to be desired. The papers had already announced that a coroner's inquest had been held on the unfortunate victim, and a verdict of wilful murder returned against Cornelius Henry Ellis, who was condemned to take his trial at the approaching assizes.

At length, Sir Edmund returned to town, and Lord Henry sought him where he was always sure to be found-at his office; and, after a lengthened consultation, the result of which he repeated to Marie, who was waiting in a carriage below, he acted upon his advice and her desire, and set off without a moment's delay for the prison where the criminal lay confined. But he arrived there only to find the miserable man in all the horrors of the wildest delirium. A brain fever of the most violent kind, had attacked him, and his life was already in imminent danger.

Not many hours after, Marie was at his side, once more fulfilling her vocation of love and duty-smoothing the burning pillow

bathing the racked and throbbing browwhispering soft words of hope and peace in those distracted ears. And it was singular, how, even in the fiercest paroxysms of his frenzy, he yet was in a manner conscious of, and subject to her influence. There seemed to be a magic in the touch of that soft handin the tones of that gentle voice-to soothe and to restrain.

Raving-raving-raving-all through the summer day-the long hours of the moonlit night-never ceasing to rave, and moan, and gibber-making the walls of that prison chamber ring with shouts, and cries, and wild discordant laughter-tossing- heaving to and fro, with a restlessness no tongue can tellclenching his powerful hands-tearing his matted hair-calling on name after name, in tones of agonised entreaty, or fierce reproach, or passionate despair-recurring often to old times, and scenes of the peaceful long agodragging the hours of innocent simple-hearted childhood into this den of horror and of guilt -struggling against one tempting thoughtone overpowering recollection-shuddering, convulsed, and panic-stricken, at the aspect of a spectral figure that stood wan-shadowy