gayly before a light breeze; but should he therefore give up all for lost, and allow the hurricane to overwhelm him without an effort? No, he would shorten sail at once, and trust, by vigorous and timely exertion, to remedy the danger to which incautiousness in fair weather had exposed him. “Not that I can ever forget her,” continued he, in conclusion, “or am at all likely to find one to fill her place. Her memory will live in mine, as we think of one dead; and her name will ever have a charm for me beyond all other feminine appellations. But do not fret on my account, dear Hilary; you have enough care, without taking another load on your shoulders for my sake.” But Captain Hepburn told his wife how great was the struggle in the mind of Maurice, how severe the shock had been, and how glad he should be when they had left England, as this weary detention from day to day, kept them all in an irritating state of idle uncertainty. Hilary knew Maurice must feel, yet his letter was a comfort too. If he could so bravely face his disappointment, the severity of the blow would be greatly lessened. If no angry feelings were lurking there, he would escape the bitterest portion of disappointed love; and perhaps, after all, the abandoned lover might be less an object of pity than his successful rival. Affairs went on at home, for some weeks, much as has been described. Isabel Barham was the most devoted friend to Gwyneth; constantly at the Vicarage, to talk over the building plans, or consult about the embroidery she was occupied with for the church. Penelope’s web hardly gave rise to more discussion and anxiety than did the cushions which Isabel thought she was working. They traveled backward and forward, several times a week, between the Abbey and the Vicarage, in Miss Barham’s britchska; that young lady always expecting to find time to set a few stitches during her visit, and generally proving mistaken in the result; so that the only progress the work made was when Gwyneth sometimes herself took it in hand; indeed, the cushions might be said to live chiefly on the road, if they had actually any other existence than in the imagination of their projectors. The curate was not excluded from the cabinet councils held on these topics, and he rarely absented himself. None of the lookers-on could at all make out the meaning of the several parties; even Hilary doubted what were Mr. Ufford’s views and intentions; and as to Miss Barham, when at Hurstdene, she seemed to care little for any thing but the vicar’s daughter. The accounts from Naples, meanwhile, were most unfavorable; there seemed scarcely a hope of Lord Dunsmore’s life, which faded and flickered apparently like a dying lamp; but as his sister-in-law and her husband were devoted to him, his brother was content to remain in England.