Without stopping to be informed whether Algernon had returned from his ride, Zorilda flew to an arbour of acacias at some distance from the house, and throwing herself upon a rustic seat, beneath its shade, gave vent to a full tide of sorrow. When the oppression of her bosom was in some measure relieved, she knelt down, and clasping her hands with uplifted energy of supplication, prayed for fortitude to bear the ills which seemed impending. The Divine aid is never asked in vain, and Zorilda rose strengthened by the fervency of her petition. Her soul was soothed and tranquillized, and she thanked the Almighty for a friend who had in some degree prepared her for events which she now perceived in prospect. "Yes! Mr. Playfair has sometimes almost appeared unkind, in dwelling on my misfortunes, and prophecying this evil hour, when I should no longer be loved by the protectors of my youth. How _picturesque_ they love a purchased stranger? The sad truth is now revealed. While yet children, our infant sports caused no uneasiness, and we enjoyed happiness unmixed with care. We are children no longer, and I am not wanted here. The unknown Zorilda, the wandering gipsey, the dependent orphan, is not considered meet companion for Algernon, advanced to manhood. What shall I do? I must quit the asylum of my youth, the loved partner of my playful hours, the venerable instructor of my early days, and remove this weight of anxiety from the breast of my benefactress." "Never!" exclaimed Algernon, who, rushing impetuously into the arbour, caught Zorilda in his arms. "What means this emotion? Zoé, you must be my wife, and then you shall stay here as in your natural home. In the mean time leave it all to me. You know my influence with my mother; I will come to the bottom of these whims, and you shall hear no more of them." "Speak not disrespectfully of your mother, Algernon; she is right, we should either of us perhaps pursue the same course were we in her situation. She once said that I was "nobody." All ask "Who is she?" to which painful question there is no answer to be given; and why should I delude myself any more. I thought the world was kind because every one caressed me, but when they did so I was a mere plaything. Those who once cherished are now ashamed of me, and this is what I can never bear. Mr. Playfair has taught me many things, and your mother (oh! must I never again call her mine) has not neglected to make me useful. I will earn my bread, and be a willing sacrifice if my departure can restore the peace which I have disturbed."