She needed to commune with herself, and be still. She wished to descend into the unsounded abysses of her heart, and examine, though with awe, the mystery of iniquity that in some unguarded hour had germinated there—this growing passion for a man betrothed to another. No matter if the marriage was broken off for the present. They loved each other. And _that_ was the true betrothal. As for herself, she would, with the grace of God, turn out this dangerous bosom guest, so divinely fair as to seem like an angel of light rather than the tempting demon that it was! And to do this effectually, she must break every tie that held her to that fair illusive life she had lately led. She must forsake every association connected with her sin and folly. She loved Mrs. Clifton—loved her first for herself alone, and then as the mother of—one whose name she dared not now to breathe even to herself. She enjoyed the congenial society and occupations at White Cliffs and at Hardbargain. And now she was the most welcome visitor on the list of both families. But she must forego the privilege this gave her. More than all, she had enjoyed her pleasant life at Hardbargain. The cheerful housekeeping cares she had shared with its mistress—the conversations over the pleasant tea-table or the social work-stand—the books, the newspapers, and the evening music, and the society of the admirable Mrs. Clifton—these formed the externals, the body of her happiness; but the interior, the soul of her joy, was that _there_ was the home of Archer Clifton—the place pervaded by his spirit! redolent of him! But all these _must_ be abandoned! They might have affinity for her nature, but they did not belong to her lot in life. And see what they had brought her to! Even to an insane passion for her benefactor! And now it was high time she had come to her senses and self-recollection. She was a poor girl, of the humblest birth—born in poverty and destined to poverty. She must leave off spending evenings with refined and accomplished young ladies in elegant saloons, if she wished to do her duty in that station to which God had called her. And she must give up the society of Archer Clifton’s mother, if she wished to forget him. And she must betake herself to the coarse, hard, but dutiful life of her brother’s cabin. Catherine went no more to White Cliffs or to Hardbargain. And when Mrs. Clifton sent for her to come and spend a day, she returned a gentle answer that she could not leave her grandfather. CHAPTER XV. THE BLACK SEAL.