Arabella Crofton was a woman of strong passions, and naturally of strong impulses also, but these she had learned in great measure to control; thus her manner was usually quiet and collected, and she both spoke and acted according to a rule laid down by herself for her own guidance, and tending towards some definite end. But when, as in the present instance, she was actuated by any overpowering feeling, she was for the moment completely carried away by it, and would act for good or evil, as the impulse which controlled her was a right or wrong one, even in direct opposition to her own plans and intentions. She disliked Alice most heartily, and she had many--we cannot say “good,” but sufficient--reasons for doing so; yet she sympathised so strongly with Harry’s grief at the idea that his wife was encouraging the attentions of Lord Alfred Courtland, that--believing, as she did honestly, Alice to be merely amusing herself, possibly for the sake of annoying her husband, but evidently not from any deep feeling for her admirer--she could not help trying to comfort him. “Do not afflict yourself so deeply,” she said; “I cannot bear to see you suffer thus! Believe me, you think too seriously of this matter; Mrs. Coverdale is only amusing herself with this foolish, infatuated young man. I am as certain as if I were in her confidence that she does not really care for him; the very openness with which she accepts his attentions proves that it is so; as soon as she has left the gaieties and frivolities of town, she will forget his very existence.” “She may forget _him_,” was the bitter reply; “but will she ever forget the cause which has driven her to encourage him--which has forced her to seek amusement in all these heartless gaieties and follies? will she ever forget the time when, pursuing my own selfish pleasures, I left her, day after day, alone--she who had always been accustomed to live in a cheerful family, will she ever forget my neglect, and restore to me that love without which life has no longer a charm for me--that love which I once possessed, and which, God help me! I fear I have alienated for ever!” “Yes, she will,” was the eager reply; “if she ever loved you, she loves you still; real, true love never dies: it would be better for some of us if time could efface feeling!” The evident emotion with which she uttered these last words touched Harry’s kind heart, and, regarding her with a look of pitying interest, he rejoined-- “Poor Arabella! you too have had much sorrow to contend with; and no one can lament more deeply than I do the share I have had in increasing it. Mine is a strange fate!--love that I cannot return is lavished and wasted on me, and the only affection I pine for, I have alienated by my own rash and inconsiderate conduct!”