"Well, it is this way," Honor continued, answering it: "you see, if Vivian Standish had never been encouraged by you, he would never have come here at all, and Guy would never have been alarmed about us, and would not have come back at all, and then, of course, we would never have all been reunited. I would be a gloomy, grumbling old maid, that could never be happy, and life would have been painfully glum for the future, whereas,"--and here the old, care-worn face smiled, as it watched the good, kind features of the girl--"you brought everything to a beautiful crisis, by pretending to force another man on me, for I really don't believe now, you meant me to marry him at all," she said, laughing outright, and kissing away the remnants of the old man's grief from his sorrowful face. "You are an angel of consolation, besides everything else," was all that Mr. Rayne could answer to her pretty speech, but he clasped again the hands of the two young people he loved, and in an earnest, pious tone, he said: "I give you, one to another: may you live to gladden and comfort one another's hearts, through a long, prosperous and holy life; and remember, that each time you dwell upon the memory of the old man, who was foolish, only in his wild love for you both, that he has begged of God on this day, to sanction this humble blessing by one from on high, and that the desire for your future welfares, was the very last desire he had satisfied in this life and now, my children, I will leave you, I am tired and worn out, and would like to rest. Will you each lend me an arm, as though no estrangement had ever come between us? Come! forgive the old man. Come, Honor! come, Guy! 'tis the last time I will ask you to assist me up these stairs." "Do not say such ugly, ominous words, dear Mr Rayne," Honor pleaded, sliding her arm in a fond way into his, and with Guy on the other side of him, the old man, smiling happily, was assisted back to his pillows, whence, it may as well be said, he never rose again. The excitement of Vivian Standish's capture and arrest, with the unexpected circumstances of Guy's return, and Honor's great sacrifice, had only served to hasten the slow progress of a fatal illness. For days after, he weakened gradually, but hopelessly, yet filled with such a holy resignation and peaceful endurance, as could not help softening the terrible grief that would have been resistless, had he suffered without fortitude or hope. CHAPTER XL. Man's uncertain life. So like a ram-drop, hanging on the bough. Amongst ten thousand of its sparkling kindred, The remnants of some passing thunder shower, Which have their moments dropping one by one, And which shall soonest lose its perilous hold, We cannot guess. --J Baillie