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Their communing has indeed, been long; and it is late, they must separate. One resolve, they mutually decide on, that Gordon's intentions shall not for the present be communicated to Colonel Aveley; he fears to compromise his patron in any way in the step which he is taking; he will act solely on his own responsibility. When he has found for himself such an occupation as he thinks suitable, he will inform the Colonel of having given up the military profession. Harriet thinks that he will not be disappointed at that; she believes that he does not admire it, does not approve of it, as he once did. His words about his little boy's future prospects have caused her to entertain this idea.

But Gordon could not depart without at least, looking on the face of him he loved so well. She softly opened the door of the colonel's room, and discovering that he was asleep, they both entered silently. The

young man knelt by the bedside, and smothering his strong emotion, gazed on the helpless warrior. His brow made swarthy by a foreign clime; his features worn with suffering; how little was there now in his appearance to speak of the fair English boy who left the quiet parsonage of his father for the tumults of battle. There he lay struck down, when his prime was scarcely passed; and in what a cause! Gordon dared not touch his hands; he pressed to his lips the hem of his coverlet, and with moistened eyes withdrew.

Then came a parting more painful still. Why dwell on it? He tears himself away at last; but scarcely has he taken a step from the door which closed on Harriet, when a dread that he shall never see her again seizes on him. He turns he will enter once more. No, he must not. He flings himself on the ground, and abandoned by all hope, feels only that he has been a fool,

a madman! That he has turned aside from the best blessings of life so insanely, that he can never merit their being offered to him again. But at least, if he do adhere to his plan, he will see her again before departure -he will lie at her gate till morning.

This, a real madness of the moment, passes away. He does not remain to show himself an unmanly weakling. He returns to his dwelling for an hour's repose, and before the shades of night have fled, he is some miles on his lonely march.

CHAPTER XXV.

"I know you proud to bear your name,
Your pride is yet no mate for mine,
Too proud to care from whence I came.

From

yon blue heavens above us bent,
The gardener Adam and his wife
Smile at the claims of long descent.
Howe'er it be, it seems to me,

'Tis only noble to be good.

Kind hearts are more than coronets,

And simple faith than Norman blood."

TENNYSON.

Too long have I neglected to speak of Lady Anne, occupied as I have been by the late events so deeply affecting my younger friends. Interesting as they were to them,

there had occured during the past months, in which her ladyship has been nearly forgotten, an event quite as interesting to her -the baptism of her son, to whom Harriet was godmamma.

The whole tenor of the intercourse between aunt and niece had, on the re-union of the little family been satisfactory in the highest degree. On only one occasion was the smooth course of life of the domestic circle ruffled. Once only did Lady Anne venture to oppose Colonel Aveley's wishes; but it was with a great deal of feminine pertinacity. Vain attempt! vain pertinacity! He yielding on almost all points,—she knew not that they were to him unimportant, though they were so important to her-he so yielding that she had never anticipated resistance on any subject, was, she found, firm as a rock when the matter interested him.

Harriet had one day carried off the baby

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