Year: 1860

al cannot speak to YOU now,' she said
softly, "but if you will meet me here to-
morrow evening, about this time, all shall
be explained. You will then see insupera-
bic obstacles interpose between Us. Leave
me for the present; we can meet as usu-
al this evening at the parsonage, but leave
me now, | entreat you"


She spoke earnestly, beseechincly, and
without word he obeved; but when he
had reached the far:horest point from
whence he could see her, lie turned to
look-Rachel still sat where he had left
her, motionless beside the foam.


They met IN the evening, but Miss Nor
land was pale depressed and pre- occupied,
and Randolph Grey, who had watched her
intentIy, could by no efor! command his
usual flow of conversation, and took his
leave early. To him the intervening hours
passed YEARLY and restlessly. He longed
for the interview with Rachel which would
end his suspense; yet he dreaded it, for
might it not also extingui5h his hopes {?
But even the longest day comes to close,
and the days were not the longest now.


Before the appointed sime Captain Grey
was on the beach, wandering among the
rocks, and advancing to the jutting point
where he bad first seen Rachel. The re-
collection Of that hour came vividly across
his mind as he seated himself on the rock
where she had sat he gazed out upon the
heaving sea, which seemed to him as rest


less as his own unquiet heart. Even as
he was gazing he heard Rachel's footsteps
upon the rocks. Silently lie made way for
her, and silently she seated herself beside
him. For a moment he took her hand,
and lookeI into her face with pang O
selfreproach tor the change he read there.
She was paler, more haegard than he had
ever seen her, even in the days of their
earliest acquaintance, and her eyes heavy
and dim with weeping; but she WAS quite
calm now. For few moments they sat
in silence, which was first broken by Ran
dolph.


"Pray do not prolong this suspense !;
let me know what it is you have to tell
me-


"This"' replied she, extending to him
her ungIoyed left hand. There was a
wedding ring upon the third finger.


A livid paleness passed over Randolph's
countenance, as he exclaimed:


"Is it possble-a wife Rachel :"


"The wife of dead husband for dare
not say his widow"


In explanation she proceeded to ac-
quaint him briefly with the history of her
life, of which the outline is as follows:


She was early left an orphan, and brought
up in the house ola relation. While both
were very young an attachment was form
eG between herself and cousin, q young
man of some property, but Of Indifferent
character. This attachment was vehe-
mently opposed by the uncle and aunt
with whom she lived but as they at the
same time, betrayed some anxiety to in
sure her hand and her small but indepen-
dent fortune for their own son, she was
little inclined to heed their by no means
djsinterested warnings, and clung to Her
bert Maxwell the more tenaciousIv the
more his character was impugned; for she
believed him to be unjustly accused, and
even in the contrary case, this, as it mi ght
estrange other fIiends, would but be rea-
son Why she who hal loved him almost
from childhood should stand by him the
mare firmly; and thus, no sooner was
Rachel of age than she was married to
Herbert Maxwell, and cast off by her Of
Tended relations Their warnings, how
ever, thoug,, not prompted by the best
motives, were no calumnies, and Rachel's
married life proved most unhappy. Her
bert was a gambler and {. spendthrift !;
reckless, dissipated and unprincipled. Yet
he had some attaching qualities, and Rach-
el loved him through all-the more so
that, inconsistent as it might seem, his
strongest feeling appeared to be love of
his wife, which took the line Of rendering
him jealous of her to a degree often pain
ful to herself, and equally unwarranted by
her conduct and his own. Her life was
one of ceaseless anxiety, like that of per
son walking on the brink of volcano,
which may at any moment burst forth and
overwhelm him.


As time wore on, Rachel observed a
change had come over her husband She
had been used to see him gay and thought
less, but now he seemed restless and anx-
ious, his gaiety forced and over strained
Whatever might be the cause it was care
fully concealed !; and his wife's inquiries
were eluded by some jesting reply that fail
ed to allay her anxiety. l; grew with the
deepening gloom she saw gathering over
Herbert. At length he could no longer
Jest with her, or, when lie attempted it,
hollow laughter wa. more painful than
sighs. Then this ceased and his very
looks told a tale of despair. His wife
piled him with direct questions, and he in
return com nandel silence, but she
would not yield her point; she implored
him to confide in her affection, to let her
share bis sorrow, be the cause of it what
it might. He resisted her still, but less
sternly; finally he bade her follow him to
his study aud locked the door.


Wild, haggard desperation was written
on bis countensnce, As, vehemently pacing
the room, he began to speak rapidly. He
told her that he was 6. rnined and dishon-
cred man no ordinary bankrupt, but one
who dared not look ills fellow-man in the
face that bis name was becoming by
word and reproach, and that this misery,
with the addition of seeing his beautiful
Young wife involved n it, was more than