"'If I send thee affliction, or any cross whatsoever, repine not,'" continued the sweet, solemn voice of Jeremy, "'nor let thy heart fail thee; I can quickly succour thee, and turn all thy heaviness into joy.' Fair Mistress Shanno, prithee think not these shining streamlets--yon sparkling river--to be no longer a true symbol of your life and this my friend's, inasmuch as your outward union hath needs had so painful and grievous an interruption. For Love is a river which flows into the sea of eternity, and hereafter your present pain and sacrifice will seem as nought in the light of that love which knows no earthly limit! Come, dear friends, the shadows lengthen, and we have many weary miles to traverse ere we reach the castle in yon valley; and you, sweet Primrose, have much to undergo, ere you seek repose this night, in the coming interview with your noble father." "But he knows all ere now, Percival," said the young girl, answering an appealing look from her lover. "My dear mother did but yester-eve send a messenger with a long letter, in which she told him all. It was to her a sorely painful task, much trying her strength, yet she would not have him greet us all unaware of our mutual sorrow; and now, some hours ere this, he has known that a daughter he has ne'er dreamed of possessing comes quickly to hide her grief-stricken heart upon his breast, and to forget her own sorrows in striving to lighten his! That is henceforth my life's mission, Percival--to bind up the bleeding hearts of my parents--and you--you will help me?" "My life is vowed to the service of your house, sweetheart," he answered; "and though I had trusted it would have been a service of joy, you shall ne'er find my feet falter along the stony paths of pain which, in our mutual service, we must now tread wearisomely. Perchance, as we dwell side by side, you in your lordly castle and I in my humble vicarage at your feet, we may yet find joys undreamed of, and sweeter comfort in our mutual striving after the undoing of the curse than our fainting hearts yet deem possible. One only favour I must first crave at your father's hand--and that, his permission to leave my newly-appointed cure for a short season once more in the hands of good Master Rhys, while I go forth alone awhile to perfect the mastery over this rebellious will, which yet dares challenge the will of its Maker." "You will not leave me, Percival!" cried Primrose in agony, clinging to him in sudden alarm and desperation. "Ah no, you do not mean it, my beloved! With you at my side, ever but a stone's-throw from my door, I can indeed be brave, and live my life with courage; but Percival, an you leave me alone in my misery, I shall die!"