"I do know it, my beloved, I do know it--" exclaimed Mrs. Spottiswoode, "and I guessed it, before your overcharged heart declared it in delirium. I, your friend, know it; and may those who have shadowed your days with evil, drink deep of the cup they prepared for you, Julia!" "Oh, my mother, my mother!" cried Julia, "how could you guide me into misery! How could I think you were preparing sorrow for the child who loved and believed in your words!" Mrs. Spottiswoode wept over the friend who lay prostrate, in body and mind, before her. Julia essayed to rise, but her exhaustion was too great; she could only press the hand of her faithful friend. "Penelope, as you love me, never name even to myself the horrible secret of my soul. Let it be for ever forgotten between us, and strengthen me by your wise counsel and friendship, my own blessed companion of once happy days!" "Rest, rest, Julia," said Mrs. Spottiswoode, "and do not exert your failing strength. I understand you. We will in future only speak of calm days, and look forward to the sober pleasures of friendship. Among your friends, the friends of your youth, Julia, there will be peace." Lady Ennismore shook her head, and the tears which trickled through her closed eyelids evinced her hopelessness of future tranquillity, but she remained silent. Mrs. Spottiswoode kissed her pale cheek. "Exert yourself no more, dearest Julia. I know all that is passing in your heart, and its struggles for oblivion upon the past. Weep not, my ill-used friend--my heart shall comfort you, and my love shall heal the wounds of betrayed affection. You do not know the hearts which are rallying round you, and are only waiting your convalescence to declare themselves your sympathising and devoted friends. Be at rest, my dearest Julia--I fear for the consequences of this weakening conversation. Try to be composed and sleep, to quiet your poor friend's alarms." But the conversation had not weakened Lady Ennismore. Her spirit was lightened by the knowledge that her secret was discovered, and that her friend still loved and honoured her with unabated affection. It was a relief to her heart, to feel assured that her friend did not judge her severely; but that, with true friendship, she had poured balm upon her broken hopes, and sympathised in her sufferings. The load of care which pressed upon her mind and strength was cast upon the confiding friend of her youth, whose consolations soothed and tranquillized the sorrow which had consumed her. The husband, for whom she had quitted her home and friends, had caused many miseries; but the hand of friendship had supported her. What woe is not assuaged by that gentle and cheering consolation!--that gift accorded by Providence to soften the ills of a patient and submissive spirit!