"Enough dear Miss Seaham. Dream on, and never may you wake from the pure and blameless dreams, which, whatever be their nature, can alone have taken rise in such a soul. Never may you awake from these to dark sorrowful reality. But should you so awake, and find those dreams dispersed, and Providence should again place us in each other's paths, remember.... But alas!" he broke off abruptly, "of what avail such imaginings? May God preserve you in this evil world! is all that remains for me to pray." He wrung her hand in strong emotion, and when Mary Seaham raised her tearful eyes to thank him for his fervent vow, Mr. Temple had turned away, his tall form was already to be seen slowly disappearing across the darkening common--and this long and singular interview was at an end. Mary in her turn hurried home, and all that had passed seemed to her recollection but as a bewildering dream, when she found herself once more in the quiet library, officiating for the last time at the tea table, which with the hissing urn, she found standing ready awaiting her return. CHAPTER IV. They grew in beauty, side by side, They filled one house with glee, Their _homes_ are severed far and wide, By mount and stream and sea. HEMANS. Pure girl! thy tender presence Has an unconscious ministry to me, And near thee, in the night that shrouds me still, My darkness is forgotten. WILLIS. The good old couple, awakened from their refreshing slumber, had already sent a servant in search of their missing niece, wondering a little what could keep her out so late upon this last night at Glan Pennant, after a day of such fatigue, and the eve of her long journey.