"May you be happy, Madeline! happy in love as pure, as devoted as mine. I will not say that my heart is broken; that is the language of a silly, brainless man; nor will I say that my hopes are crushed, for God our Father rules on earth, as well as in Heaven, and his will is not what I had hoped. I submit, I trust, with patience, and by-and-bye, I doubt not, will see the reasons why I have been disappointed in my first affection." "He will guide you, I doubt not, my lord, in all the events of life; and one so benevolent, so useful, so noble as you, cannot be unhappy; for there is too much in this wicked world for Christians to do, to spend their lives in vain regrets." "We are one in Christian hope, Madeline, and that is a comfort; one in all schemes of good for our fellow-men." "Will you pray for me, Lord N----? Sore trials are before me, and I need a Saviour's grace to sustain me in what is surely coming." "You are before me morning and evening, Madeline; and, though separated by the wide ocean, I shall remember you whenever I bend the knee to my Father in Heaven." "We shall be friends, Lord N----," continued Madeline, as she extended her hand. "Yes, Madeline; after a while, true and faithful friends. I shall rejoice when you are happy, and be sad when you are afflicted." They were not aware of the passage of time until Lady Alice was heard calling, "Madeline, where are you? Papa and mamma sent me to look for you. Come to the drawing-room, we must have some music to-night," and she ran hastily up to the verandah, and drew away her young friend, saying-- "Brother, I think you are very selfish; we want Madeline to-night, as it is her last evening at Parkhurst." Lord N---- did not answer, and Madeline followed Lady Alice, deeply pained at the disappointment which she knew would fill all that family circle. She took her seat at the harp, but begged to be excused from singing, for she could scarcely trust her voice to speak. Lord N---- seated himself at a distant window, shading his eyes with his hand. Lady Alice stood by her side, and Madeline played in her most touching style many of her beautiful pieces. "Some of your sacred music, Miss Hamilton," said the earl, "for that suits the tone of our feelings," and she played some exquisite variations from the hymn, "I would not live alway." Every heart was full; silence reigned among them. "Now, one hymn of hope, Madeline," said the countess, and all the group joined in the sweet words-- "How firm a foundation! ye saints of the Lord!" and, supported by the others, she too poured forth her wondrous notes in strains of melody, while the rich chords of the harp accompanied the choir of voices. They parted sadly that night, and the next morning early, left with feelings of deepest sorrow the sweet shelter of Parkhurst Manor. "We shall see you in London, Madeline," said Lady Alice, "for you will need us, dear."