“Would you not like to see Halbert, Mary?” said Christian, taking the cold hands of her sister in her own. “Do you care or wish to see Halbert now, Mary?” “Yes, yes,” was the answer, and Mary’s eye assumed a kinder and more natural glow. “I forgot, tell him to come here Christian, I would rather see him, I cannot meet him down stairs.” Halbert was speedily summoned, and when his step paused at the door, Mary ran forward to meet him with pleasure in her eyes. True, Halbert’s tone of affectionate sympathy brought the remembrance of that scene of the morning, and with it the tears to Mary’s eyes; but Christian rejoiced to see how gently they fell, and hoped that the sorest and bitterest part of the struggle was past; and so it was, for Mary went down with untrembling step and entered the room where her father, brother, and the stranger sat with a sweet and settled calmness, which allayed all Christian’s fears. It seemed now that however strange the stranger was to Christian, he was no stranger to Mary Melville. Mr. Charles Hamilton was in truth well known to Mary--yea, that Robert looked arch and intelligent, and his young friend blushed as he rose to greet her on her entrance. This acquaintanceship was soon explained, Mary had met him several times at Mrs. James’s parties, and the casual mention which Robert and Mary had made of him among the host of Elizabeth’s visitors had not been sufficiently marked to attract the attention of Christian, engrossed as she was then with such great anxiety regarding poor Mary’s unfortunate attachment.