"Oh no, of course, if he had the temper of the devil--excuse me Mary--I have no doubt you would be content at present; but I do not wish to say anything against Trevor's temper, I would not undertake to do so. He is a good son to all appearance; what kind of husband he will make remains to be proved." "That he will ever love me less than he does now, I cannot, could not _try_ even to fancy," Mary continued, with a voice tremulous with feeling; "and now, at least you must confess that his affection for me is most true, most purely disinterested; that he loves me for myself alone; or how else would he wish to marry one who possesses neither beauty, talents, or fortune." "By the bye," rejoined Mr. de Burgh, as if the subject had been but suddenly suggested to his mind by Mary's latter words, "I suppose you are aware to what circumstances Eugene is indebted for the position he now, to all appearance, holds as his father's heir?" "Yes," Mary responded, rather sadly, "to the mental derangement of his brother." "Yes, that is the plea," Mr. de Burgh coldly replied. "But," Mary continued, after a pause, and without having been struck by any peculiar emphasis her cousin might have placed upon these latter words, "Olivia, I think, told me at the same time, that this misfortune was purely accidental, that at least there was no hereditary evil of the kind existing in the family." "Oh, none whatever; most perfectly accidental, I believe," was Mr. de Burgh's apparently careless rejoinder, as he stood looking out of the window, as he had done on Mary's entrance. And here the conversation ended, except that Mary, before leaving the room, approached her cousin, saying in an affectionate tone: "And now, before I go, Louis, you will wish me joy, I am sure." "Most certainly, dear Mary," he replied, as he fervently wrung her proffered hand, "all possible joy and happiness that heaven and earth can bestow upon you." "Thank you very much, dear Louis," Mary replied, "and I may write," she added, more timidly, "and tell him that he may come; I would not let him do so again, till I had informed you of our engagement." "Oh yes, write of course if you like, most certainly." And Mary, again thanking him, left the library, and returned to the drawing-room. CHAPTER XVI. She watch'd for him at dawn, and she watched for him at noon, Tho' well she knew she could not hope to see him come so soon; She could not rest, but peeping thro' her casement's leafy screen, She watched the spot where she was told his form would first be seen. HAYNES BAYLEY.