He did not ask himself whether she filled all his fastidious and lofty requirements,--whether she rose full-statured to his noble standard,--whether reverence, perfect confidence, and unqualified admiration would follow in the footsteps of mere affection. He neither argued, nor trifled, nor deceived himself, but bravely confessed to his own true soul, that, for the first time in his life, he loved warmly and tenderly the only woman whose touch had power to stir his quiet, steady pulses. He had not intended to surrender his affections to the custody of any one until reason and judgment had analyzed, weighed, and cordially endorsed the wisdom of his choice; and now, although surprised at the rashness with which his heart, hitherto so tractable and docile, vehemently declared allegiance to a new sovereign, he did not attempt to mask or varnish the truth. Thoroughly comprehending the fact that it was neither friendship nor compassion, he gravely looked the new feeling in the face, and acknowledged it,--the tyrant which sooner or later wields the sceptre in every human heart. Had he faithfully kept his compact with himself, and followed the injunction of Joubert, "Choose for a wife only the woman, whom, were she a man, you would choose for your friend"? Because he found a fascination in her society, should he conclude that it was a healthful atmosphere for his sturdy, exacting, uncompromising nature? To-day he swept aside all these protests and questions, postponing the arraignment of his heart before the tribunal of slighted and indignant reason, and allowed the newly mitred pontiff to lead him whither she chose. Unconscious of the emotions that brought an unusual glow to his face and light to his eyes, Mrs. Gerome had dropped her head once more on her arms, and the weary, despairing expression of her countenance, as she looked at the gilded horizon, where sea and sky seemed divided only by a belt of liquid gold,--might have served for the face of some careless Vestal, who, having allowed the fire to expire on the altar she had sworn to guard sleeplessly, sat hopeless, desolate, and doomed,--watching from the dim, cheerless temple of Hestia, the advent of that sun whose rays alone could rekindle the sacred flame, and which, ere its setting, would witness the execution of her punishment. Dr. Grey bent over her, and said,-- "I came here in quest of you, hoping to persuade you to return to the house." "No. You came to tell me that Elsie is dead. You came to break the news as gently as possible,--and to pity and try to comfort me. You are very good, I dare say; but I wish to be alone." "You have been too long alone, and I can not consent to leave you here." At the sound of his subdued voice, she turned her face towards him, and, for a moment,--