"Till fast declining one by one, The sweetnesses of love were gone, And eyes forgot the gentle ray They wore in courtship's sunny day, And voices lost the tones that shed A tenderness round all they said, And hearts so lately mingled seemed Like broken clouds, or like the stream That smiling left the mountain's brow As though the waters ne'er could sever, Yet ere it reach the plain below Breaks into floods that part for ever." Nor could Mary, though Mrs. de Burgh's extreme kindness to herself made her easily incline to indulgence and partiality, at all times bring herself to approve or enter into her feelings or course of conduct, or be led quite to do, and think as it pleased her beautiful cousin. One instance of the kind it may be necessary that we should record, both as in it our heroine was more personally concerned, and as forming a more regular link in the chain of our story. CHAPTER X. Lo! where the paling cheek, the unconscious sigh, The slower footstep, and the heavier eye, Betray the burthen of sweet thoughts and mute, The slight tree bows beneath the golden fruit. THE NEW TIMON. It was a beautiful afternoon, in the first week of August, and the two ladies set off as usual for their afternoon's drive, the little Louisa seated between them. Mr. de Burgh had been on the steps to see the party start, himself lifting the child with his usual tenderness into the carriage--and wishing them a pleasant drive, he casually inquired in what direction they meant to go. "To Morland, I think," answered Mrs. de Burgh carelessly, as she gathered up the reins, and arranged herself upon her seat. "To Morland," he repeated. "Yes! have you any objection?" "Oh, none whatever!" "Well, good bye!" and with a light touch of the whip, the pretty ponies were put in motion. Ere they had proceeded far through the park Mrs. de Burgh said, laughing: "I told him we were going to Morland, but that is not at all my intention. You need not say anything about it, but I have made up my mind to drive you to Montrevor. Really I ought to go and see old Uncle Trevor after his illness; at any rate, I must speak to Eugene, and make personal inquiries." "But why tell Louis that you were going to Morland? Oh, Olivia! do not drive there to-day," Mary exclaimed in some consternation. "Why not," inquired Mrs. de Burgh, looking at her companion in surprise: "you really do not mean to say that I ought to submit to the absurd objection Louis expressed the other night upon the subject?" Mary could not say with sincerity, that this--or even the unnecessary deceit which her companion intended to put upon her husband--however this might have offended her conscience, was the chief cause which now rendered the proposed excursion so repugnant to her feelings; there was another, of a nature she could not exactly explain; but which nevertheless influenced them greatly on this occasion.