toward her. When I thought of her approaching marriage, it was not with jealousy, but with a certain indefinable pang which came of my dislike to the motives and character of James. I did not believe that he loved her. Eleanor he _had_ loved; but Mary was to him only the necessary means of securing the name, property, respectability, etc., of his uncle's family. As I recalled that visit to the gaming-table, I felt, at times, as if I _must_ get back from this journey in time to interfere, and break up the marriage. I would run the risk of being again treated as before--of being misunderstood and insulted--I would run _any_ risk to save her from the unhappiness which must come from such a partnership! So I thought one hour, and the next I would persuade myself that I could not and must not make such a fool of myself; and that, after all, when once "married and settled," James might make a very good husband and citizen. Little Lenore was the light and glory of the steamer. People almost fancied that, with such a good angel aboard, no harm could come to the ship. And indeed we had a speedy, prosperous voyage. Yet it was tedious to Mr. Burton. I had never seen him so restless. I used to tell him that he made the hours a great deal longer by counting them so often. It was evident that he had some anxiety which he did not share with me. A feverish dread of delays was upon him. After we had crossed the isthmus, and were fairly embarked on the Pacific, his restlessness abated. Yet it was just then that a small delay occurred, which threatened to irritate him into new impatience. It was found that the captain had taken on board quite a company of passengers whom he had promised to land at Acapulco. It was a beautiful, sunny day early in October, that our ship steamed into the little bay. Nearly all the passengers were on deck, to take a look at the country and harbor as we approached. I was upon the hurricane-deck with Lenore, who was delighted with the warm air and green shores, and whose hair streamed on the fresh yet delicious breeze like a golden banner. She observed the distant mountains, the sunny haze, the glimmering water of the bay, with all the intelligence of a woman; while I could not but be more pleased with the roses blowing on her cheeks and the trick the wind was playing with her hair, than with all the scenery about us. The child's attendant, a steady, careful matron, who had long had the charge of her, was likewise on deck, chatting with some of her new acquaintances, and she could not refrain from coming to us, presently, on the pretext of wrapping Lenore's shawl closer about her.