"Which is very little. I never saw him until Mr. Cranleigh's marriage, when he was introduced to me at Mrs. Morris'." "By whom? by Helen?" "By Mrs. Morris, herself. He made a party call, and has continued to visit the house." "Artful as ever!" he said, through his shut teeth. "Does Mrs. Read see him?" "Yes; and Mr. Read." "The old blinkard! Does Helen receive him as your friend or as hers?" "As the friend of the family." "Tush! I might commend your diplomacy, Miss Ross, if I were not so thoroughly in earnest. It is clear you will not advance a step, without knowing why you are questioned. Having more confidence in you, than you have in me, I will set you an example of candor. Ashlin and my sister were betrothed when he was at college. We were 'chums.' He is ardent--generous in some of his impulses, but as I perceived, even with my boyishly irregular notions, lax in principle. Helen was not ignorant of my opinion, and with a woman's faith and perseverance, set herself to break it down. You do not know her as she was then--high-spirited, proud and passionate, but tractable as a child to the voice of affection. Her will was more ungovernable than mine, and she almost reconciled me to her choice. He had just completed his course at the University, when the death of an uncle put him in possession of a valuable estate in Cuba. The marriage, which was to have taken place immediately, was postponed for twelve months. Meantime, he was to visit his property, and prepare for a permanent residence in the West Indies. The year elapsed--he did not return--and suddenly his letters were suspended. Helen was insanely trustful; he might be ill or dead--dying, or in the grave, he was true! Her romantic independent disposition led her to the formation of a mad project--to search for him in person, since she could learn nothing in any other way. I could not dissuade her;--she made but one concession,--that I might accompany her. The object and direction of our expedition was known only to ourselves. We were ready--a day before that fixed for starting, a letter came! He was enamored of an Italian cantatrice; 'designed marrying her, if Helen would liberate him;--if not, he would redeem his early pledge to her.' She was ill for weeks; and upon what, I believed was her death-bed, she extorted from me a vow not to revenge her. She 'should have foreseen how it would end,' she said, 'blind, confiding dupe, that she was!' She arose--a hardened, I think, sometimes, a heartless woman of the world:--with her trust in him, had perished her faith in God and man; an unfeminine panting for wealth and distinction filling its place. Chance threw this gold-fish, Read, in her net; and she clutched him. I had sorrowed for, and commiserated her until then; but so sordid, so wickedly weak was this act, that I reproached her angrily. I said it sprang from wounded vanity, and a mean desire to glitter, a hollow-hearted, tinselled doll in the view of those who