“Oh, Maurice! Maurice!” sobbed she, as she buried her face in her hands, “why am I to be a source of misery and disappointment to you? Oh! brother, you who have never done any thing but comfort and love me, are your hopes now to be blighted for my sake? Why did you love so truly and so well? Why did you surrender that generous heart to one who dared not own the affection she had created! Was it a crime to love, that she should blush to be claimed by you! Oh! weak, foolish Dora, your idle, childish terrors have caused all this.” Very bitter the blow was, and rendered more so by the insulting tone in which the news had been announced. Could this be Charles Huyton, the man whom she had known so well, who had seemed so amiable, who had professed such love for her! She shuddered as she contemplated such a character, and tried to persuade herself that she had fancied more than the truth. But yet in her secret soul there was something which told her otherwise, which impressed on her the conviction that it was a bad, unholy feeling now actuating her former lover, and that misery must be the result to those concerned. Oh! how she longed at that moment for the comfort of her husband’s sympathy and love; how her heart ached to pour out its fears and sorrows to him, knowing that there they would be understood and borne with, and perhaps reasoned away, but this intense longing must be checked, put aside, kept under, or it would soon grow up into an overpowering cloud, darkening her hopes, numbing her feelings, paralyzing her actions, and obscuring from her the bright sunshine of trust and cheerful faith. She turned her thoughts once more to Maurice and Dora; but what could she do for them? Nothing but pray for them; and sinking on her knees she did pray, long and earnestly, that if sorrow must come on her beloved brother it might be borne with patience, and so bring a blessing with it; and for the others, too, she prayed, that the angry feelings might be softened, and the unkind intention converted into a better mood; that the weak might be strengthened, the erring restored; that they might both be saved from sinful weakness and sinful passions; and that if their own willful ways brought suffering on them, that suffering might be sanctified to a happy result. Little thought the angry and vindictive man for whom she prayed, of the only return she made to his unkindness; and little deemed he that if his cruel letter had given her pain, it had also afforded her the occasion of exercising faith, meekness, and charity; that her soul rose the stronger for the blow which he had hoped would prostrate it. She forgave him the injury he had, perchance, intended; and to forgive from the heart is alone the blessed gift of that Spirit whose presence brings peace and consolation. CHAPTER XX.