"He is frequently in the library, I understand?" "Yes, he sits there for hours; but he generally keeps in his own room in the evening, and you might then come down with safety. Have you everything you require at present?" "Everything. You have taken excellent care of me, Markland." "I am sorry I can't do better. I'll return by-and-by to take away the things." With this he departed, and Atherton soon made an end of his meal. Time seemed to pass very slowly, but at length evening arrived, and the butler reappeared. "You will find Miss Rawcliffe in the library," he said, "and need fear no interruption, for Father Jerome is with Mrs. Butler. I shall be on the watch, and will give timely notice should any danger arise." Instantly shaking off the gloom that had oppressed him, Atherton set off. The butler accompanied him to the head of the private staircase, but went no further. Though all was buried in darkness, the young man easily found his way to the secret door, and cautiously stepped into the library. Lights placed upon the table showed him that Constance was in the room, and so noiselessly had he entered, that she was not aware of his presence till he moved towards her. She then rose from the sofa to meet him, and was clasped to his breast. Need we detail their converse? It was like all lovers' talk--deeply interesting to the parties concerned, but of little interest to any one else. However, we must refer to one part of it. They had been speaking of their prospects of future happiness, when he might be able to procure a pardon from the Government and return to Rawcliffe--or she might join him in France. "But why should our union be delayed?" he cried. "Why should we not be united before my departure?" "'Tis too soon after my unhappy father's death," she replied. "I could not show such disrespect to his memory." "But the marriage would be strictly private, and consequently there could be no indecorum. You can remain here for awhile, and then rejoin me. I shall be better able to endure the separation when I feel certain you are mine." "I am yours already--linked to you as indissolubly as if our hands had been joined at the altar. But the ceremony cannot be performed at present. Our faiths are different. Without a dispensation from a bishop of the Church of Rome, which could not be obtained here, no Romish priest would unite us. But were Father Jerome willing to disobey the canons of the Church, I should have scruples." "You never alluded to such scruples before." "I knew not of the prohibition. I dare not break the rules of the Church I belong to." "But you say that a license can be procured," he cried eagerly. "Not here," she rejoined; "and this would be a sufficient reason for the delay, if none other existed. Let us look upon this as a trial to which we must submit, and patiently wait for happier days, when all difficulties may be removed."