Must he turn away, and never look on _her_--never look on Mary thus again? Was it the last time, as it had been the first, that he should ever dare to press that dear hand as now he had done? Nay, more--must he see it given to another?--would he be called upon to crown the measure of that generous mercy with which he had come, his heart overflowing--by withdrawing the restraining hand he had, for the few last years, held between his unnatural enemy, and that innocent object of his enemy's covetous affections? Was he to be called upon--yes, perhaps by Mary herself--to abstain from his threatened exposure of the past, and stand from between Eugene and herself?--now, in his hour of triumph, to be merciful, generous and forgiving in this also? For why else did he see her here?--why, if the purport of her letter still held good, that she had bade adieu--cancelled for ever her engagement with her former lover? Why, then, was she here, in the very place where she had first fallen into this dangerous snare? Ah, no!--he saw it all too plainly! Impelled by the impulse of a woman's mistaken, but generous devotion, her lover's fallen fortunes, whilst engaging her pity, had redeemed his offences in her eyes, and recalled her alienated affections; that she was here, like a ministering angel, to assure him of this--to console him, to sympathize; perhaps to ward off, by her intercession, the disgrace and ruin to which his injured brother's dreaded coming threatened to overwhelm the object of her solicitude. But he had no time to dwell on these things. There had been something in his touch, light as it had been, which proved sufficient to break the charm of slumber. Mary slowly unclosed her eyes, and murmuring: "Are you there, Charlie?" looked up and beheld her new companion. One uncertain bewildered gaze she fixed upon his face, then gliding to her feet cried: "Mr. Trevor, are you really come?" and burst into tears. "Yes, Miss Seaham, I am come," was the reply, in a voice trembling with emotion; and taking the hands she had extended towards him, gently reseated her on the sofa, and sat down by her side, looking with earnest mournfulness in her face. "Yes, I am come, and thank you for this feeling welcome, which is but too much required, for you may well imagine what a coming, one such as mine must be." "Yes, yes," she murmured through her fast falling tears; "I know, I feel it must be a fearful trial; your father's dreadful death, the melancholy destruction of your home. But--but, Mr. Trevor, it is the hand of the Almighty--His great and terrible hand--we must look upon it as such; and," lifting up her streaming eyes, "hope for His loving-mercies to shine forth once again. There has been much of dark and terrible in the past, but let us pray that the future may atone. Yes, you have returned, and all may still be right."