"Major Frankfort," said she, after a short pause, "I am glad to have this opportunity of addressing a few words to you on a matter of deep concern to me. I am not going to speak of myself--my history cannot interest you, although it must be clear to you that I am a joyless creature--but I, claiming a right to judge and act for those I love, because sorrowful experience has aged me more than years beyond them--I venture to ask for a proof of your friendship, albeit we have been acquainted little more than one week--" She hesitated--Frankfort looked at her, her eyes were cast down, the tears were beginning to steal from under the drooping lids; he could not speak, his heart was so full of pity, and yet there were doubts mingled with this pity--was there any self-reproach added to the bitterness of the anguish that oppressed that stricken heart? He was thinking only of Eleanor, while she was intent on interesting him in her sister's welfare--she brushed away the tears. "Ah!" said she, "how self stands between us and the impulses of good! Here I have come, with the resolution to do my duty to my sister, and I am alluding to my own vain regrets for what can never be amended--it is of Marion I would speak, Major Frankfort. Your friend Mr Ormsby is evidently a man of the world, who sees no harm in devoting himself to any young creature who may take his fancy far the time. Will you pardon my reminding you, that if you have observed this, it must suggest itself to you--it must clearly be your--your duty, to speak to him? Alas, alas!" added she, "I scarcely know how to address you on this most painful subject; men are so apt to impute evil motives to women, whose principles are honest, whose minds would be pure, but for the heavy lessons learned from the other sex. Ah!" continued she, covering her face with her hands to hide the blushes that crimsoned it, "can I trust you--will you help me? Save my sister, my darling Marion,--save her from the misery of a blighted heart. Oh, think, Major Frankfort, how terrible a doom it is to dwell in the desert, with but the record of a dream! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "You would understand me better if you knew all--you would appreciate my earnestness, my anxiety to shield my sister from a deadly sorrow, ere it be too late. Ah!" she cried, clasping her hands, and speaking with more energy than she had hitherto displayed, "if you should set down what I say to wrong account--if you _should_ misunderstand me!--" "Believe me, Mrs Lyle," answered Frankfort, with great emotion,--"believe me, when I say that, from the depths of my soul, I understand you."