"Pure, lovely, and of good report," and a new and wonderful fascination had been the effect produced upon his mind. Whilst under its immediate influence, he had seemed to exist in another sphere, to breathe another atmosphere, to have become a new creature; and he had contemplated his marriage with a calm, tranquil delight, as the completion of a still more certain renovation and transformation of his existence. Its untoward interruption, therefore, had provoked and disappointed him beyond measure--beyond even the fear and inconvenience of those serious consequences into which the circumstances of the case had otherwise threatened him. Irritated and embarrassed by the trouble and perplexity in which the affair involved him, we will not say, however, but that in the end this one year's certain postponement of his marriage, as decided in his interview with Arthur Seaham, had not in a great degree relieved his mind in the emergency. In one year, as he had said, much might happen to change the aspect of affairs. At any rate breathing time was afforded, in which he might, without danger to himself, indulge in the consciousness of knowing that a tender heart was all his own. For the sequel time would provide. In the meantime what had he to do, but to pursue his former career, and hush the voice of conscience in the excitement of the crowd. "To follow all that peace disdains to seek, Where revel calls, and laughter vainly loud, False to the heart, distorts the hollow cheek, And leave the flagging spirits still more weak." That the mind of man need indeed be more than human to withstand such counter-influences has been well tested. "Amidst such scenes, love's flower too soon is blighted." * * * * * What different courses marked the existence of Mary Seaham and Eugene Trevor, during the lengthened interval which is to follow, may easily be imagined--different as the streamlet's course through the quiet valley, to the river's, rolling its darkened waters through the streets tumultuous of defiling cities! Let us then, now that our less pleasing task is accomplished, restrain our footsteps as much as possible to the streamlet's course; that is to say, in the ensuing pages, let us follow more closely Mary Seaham's career than that of her lover's. "Not through each devious path, each changeful year of existence, But as a traveller follows a streamlet's course through the valley: Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its water Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only; Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms that conceal it, Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous murmur, Happy at length if he find the spot when it reaches an outlet." END OF VOL. II. LONDON: Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.