Year: 1861

perfect outward expression. yet is none th
less keenIy felt in effects because it work
in secret and in silence. Such a warfar
commenced between Agnes Browne an,
myself at our first meeting, could no
but pronounce her beautiful, Any on
looking into her radiant blue eyes, watch
ing the crimson flushing of her cheeks, O
the red curve of her dainty lips, would
have been insane enough to pronounce
different verdict. She was graceful-ho7
could she be othprwise, with her slender
swaying figure. her matchless proportions
and faultless symmetry of form? brilliant
beWitching, everything ] had heard bel
painted, and yet | shrank with instructive
repugnance from her courteous greeting
and the soft clasp Of her delicate white
hand


I will not 90 into a minute detail of the
weeks that followed. It vii be sufficient
if tell you that | saw another monopolis
ing attentions that previously had been en-
tirely mine, and saw it with pang Of en-
W. 1t was Agnes Brownies musical voice
that sung Edgar's faVorite songs--her
smile of appreciation and sympathy instead
of mine, that he learned to wait and watch
for: I saw it all with the sharpened Wis
ion born of a disturbed and weakened
heart I saw it, and rebelled against the
knowledge that came with 1.-THE knowl-
edge that I loved Edgar Richards with tie
first, pure, absorbing passion-devotion Of
my woman's heart It was bitter, call
ing truth for woman to learn, and I tried
to shut it out from my thoughts. As well
might l have attempted to hide myself
from the air of heaven and still breathe.


One other had possession Of my secret.
Need I say it was my rival? l knew it by
the victorious, almost boastful way in
which she queened it over me, the mimi
table and apparently unconscious manner
in which she managed to keep her dazzling,
radient loyeliness in perpetual contrast
with my plainliness and avkwardness; the
graceful sweetness with which she treated
me in the presence Of others, and the
naughty, exultant air which she put on
when we were alone together. One morn
ing I went into the garden to gether some
roses for my hower-glasses. The sunshine
lay opon the flowers like tremulous float
ing film Of gold The air was delicious
with perfume, and all Nature shone forth
with rare and efulgent loveliness. But
there was sorrow in my heart which no
outward beauty and grace could paeify,
and with spirit Of almost defiant bitter
ness I walked moody down the garden
walks. Suddenly, on turning the corner
of winding path. I became the witness
Of scene not intended for curious eyes,
and which sent the blood dasbing back in
an angry torrent upon my heart. Side By
side in the arbor sat Edgar Richards and
Agnes, One Of her round, white arms lay
half slyly, half caressingly about his neck;
the other swung coquettishly backwards
and forwards in the loop of falling vine.
Her head nestled against the shoulder. the
eyel5ds dropping bashfully over the spark
ling blueness of her eyes, and her curls
drifting like cloud of feecy gold, all over
her bright, blushing happy face. His
arms were clasped tenderly about her
waist: and as be bent his head, and press
ed his lips lingeringly to hers, I knew, as
well as l do now, that I had witnessed the
seal of their betrothal. I stole away as I
had come, unperceivcd. and left them alone
with their happiness. Of which I vas at
best but an interloping spectator.


''Do you consider Mr.. Richards danger
ously III, Miss Ellis? 2"


Agnes Browne had asked me this ques-
ton in the softest and most musical Of
voices, as we stood together by the bed
side of her lover, who had been taken
suddenly and violently i'll during the pre-
vious night.


am not well enough acquainted with
the different forms Of Illness to be good
judge" I replied, looking up at her.


She had just come in from the morning
ride, which she had been obliged for once
to take without any attendant. The fresh
air and invigorating exercise had brought
deeper crimson on her cheeks, and live
lier sparkle to her eyes, and l thought I
had never seen her so lovely as at that
moment, standing with the long skirt Of
her riding habit trailing behind her upon
the carpet, and giving her slight figure an
air Of queeniiness the dark plumes of her
hat just shading her forehead, and droop-
ing against her rosy face, as if in envy Of
the tangled sunshiny curls they could not
keep in place; one soft hand resting light
ly upon Edgar's feverish palm, and the
other tossing up and catching with a kind
Of childish grace the gauntletted gloves
she had pulled OF as she came in. Icould
not blame Edgar for loving her, or won
der why he should prefer her to me-plain
Mary Ellis-with my brown complexion,
commonplace looks, and unattractive
ways.


''DO you think he is dangerously ILL.,,
doctor?"


Agnes knit her brows with pretty look
Of anxiety, as she turned to the physician
who had butjust entered the room, and
repeated the question. The doctor bent
low over his patient, felt his pulse, exam
ined his tongue, and for moment hesita-
ted. Then he looked up with a glance SO
strange and peculiar that it thrilled
through me like a vague foreboding of
evil.


"Have you courage, young ladies 7" he
asked, looking first at Agnes and then at
me.


DO we look like towards Z" laughed
Agnes, musically.


'.1Ir Richards is dangerously ILL.," be
replied, without noticing her remark, and