despicable villain, who rested not till his base arts had ruined the--the--virtuous; that Jefferies, the canting hypocrite, the wretched miscreant, who has won all hearts because he speaks so fair, he, he alone is guilty. Put the question to him; let Nurse Langford ask him if the dying spoke falsely when she named him, and his guilt will be written on his brow. Arthur Myrvin did visit that cottage; Mary had confessed a crime, she said not what, and implored his prayers; he soothed her bodily and mental sufferings, he robbed death of its terrors, and his only grief at leaving the village was, that she would miss his aid, for that crime could not be confessed to another; and they dare to accuse him of sin, he who is as good, as pure, as--" For one second she paused, choked by inward agony, but ere either her father or mother could address her, she continued, in an even wilder tone,--"Why did Arthur Myrvin leave this neighbourhood? why did he go hence so suddenly--so painfully? because, because he loved me--because he knew that I returned his love, and he saw the utter hopelessness that surrounded us, and he went forth to do his duty; he left me to forget him, to obtain peace in forgetfulness of one I may never see again--forgetfulness! oh, not till my brain ceases to throb will that be mine. He thought to leave me with his love unspoken, but the words came, and that very hour we parted. He loved me, he knew I could not be his, and it was for this his living was resigned, for this he departed; and had he cause to blush for this? pure, honourable, as was his love, too noble, too unselfish to urge aught that could bid Emmeline forget her duty to her parents for love of him; bearing every calumny, even the prejudice, the harshness of my father, rather than confess he loved me. He is innocent of every charge that is brought against him--all, all, save the purest, the most honourable love for me; and, oh, is that indeed, indeed a crime?" She had struggled to the very last to speak calmly, but now sobs, the more convulsive because the more suppressed, rose choking in her throat, and rendered the last words almost inaudible. She pressed both hands against her heart and then her temples, as if to still their painful throbbings, and speak yet more, but the effort was fruitless, and she darted wildly, and fled as an arrow from the room.