and when Mr. Wilson procured me a
lucrative engagement for six months, I accepted
it gratefully, but reluctantly; a reluctance which,
by this time, another had taught himself to share.

Coming home when it was ended, I found
the pliant, docile girl, who would yield to any
strong influence exerted upon her, on the eve of
marriage with her cousin, an officer in the
Indian army, whose regiment was to sail
immediately.  He had a free, open, vehement,
soldierly bearing, and was impassioned in his
professions of attachement; while her father gently
but firmly pushed the matter on, until, as
Daisy told me, weeping in my arms, she could
not help it she wanted to be faithful and true,
but it was too late; if I had never left her
she would have had power to be constant.
The girl's character was without stamina; and
such supple tendrils will wind round the
support nearest to them. After all, there is more
seriousness, more necessity of sight, in these
weak natures, than in those that love more
passionately. Once assured of the truth of a
man's love, I could live a lifetime of unwavering
faith in him. But Daisy needed to feel, day by
day, that she was being cared for; and when
Godfrey was so long absent, and John Wilson
and her father urged her with reiterated entreaties,
she sacrificed her first love, though not
without a grievous suffering.

I did not dare to tell Godfrey of her falsehood,
lest he should remain abroad, far away from me,
who loved him so truly, and who could console
him with living consolation. So, though Daisy
was married, and had left England before the
time of Godfrey's return, he came home in
ignorance, bringing with him the painting by which
he was to win her. He had been always of a
reserved and reticent disposition, and we had
often worked side by side for days with but
few interchanges of words. But now, in the joy
of coming home, he was voluble and excited,
making my very heart ache by his expressions
of delight. The packing-case containing his
picture was carried up into my studio, and he
stood before it, impatient to disclose to me the
work, yet hesitating with a half-laughing air of
shame-facedness. How was I to tell him of
Daisy's perfidy?

"Emma," he said, "I wish Daisy could be
the first to see it, even before you, to whom I
owe everything—my perseverance and success,
even my precious little wife. Don't think me
an ungrateful scoundrel."

"I never shall, Godfrey," I answered; "but
listen. Before you knew Daisy you set your
mind upon becoming a true and noble artist,
elevating the people by the teaching symbols and
representations of our art, and you were willing
to endure toil and difficulty, yes, and sorrow, so
that your own soul might attain a pure
excellence. What say you, brother, if you must
relinquish Daisy or your art, which should it be?"

He leaned in deep thought against the case
for a few minutes, looking down upon it fixedly,
as if he saw through its panels the work of his
own hands and brain. Then a deeper colour
flushed under his sunburnt skin. "This is
dear to me," he said; "it has given me anxiety
and hope, dissatisfaction and content, and has
played with every emotion of my nature, except
my love. There only Daisy's touch rests, and
I find that there are hidden depths that have
been concealed even from myself. I feel a
living, throbbing heart, and an immortal spirit
knitted to mine forever. Let art go rather than
that I should stand alone again, divorced from
this complement of myself. We shall honour
marriage, Emma. We shall give truth for truth,
love for love, life for life. It is an infinite
happiness."

"Oh, Godfrey!" I cried, mournfully, "you
can never have another sister. Do you not love
me as well as Daisy?"

My brother sat down, and drew me to him;
and I laid his head to rest upon my bosom, where
I could not see the working of his face.

"Godfrey," I said, "do you not remember all
these years that we have grown up together?
Daisy could never know you as I do, because
your life has been mine as well; all your
pursuits and pleasures and troubles. She is very
weak, brother; there is no dependence to be
placed upon her. We have built upon the sand."

He loosened his hold, and moved restlessly,
as if to free himself from my hands, which lay
upon his head; but I pressed it closer down, lest
I should see his face.

"My darling brother, my dearest, best
Godfrey, she counted herself unworthy of you. She
is married, and gone away out of the country."

Then I stopped and listened, but there was a
voiceless hush in that room; and the common
empty sounds that reached us from without,
jarred and clashed upon my ears, while the beating
temples under my fingers palpitated with
fierce and feverish rapidity.

"O God!" he groaned at last, "it is impossible!"

Then I told him all, speaking in a whisper as
if she were dead, without one word of anger
against her, because I felt he could not endure
it yet. But of Mr. Wilson's treachery and
worldliness I spoke with poignant bitterness,
for he had acted cruelly in feeding Godfrey's
love and hope for these two years. I said, too,
that I would be his comforter, and devote
myself to him; and for this reason I had concealed
the truth from him, until he could hear it thus.

While I was speaking, he to whom I had
betrothed myself only three days before, and whom
I had almost forgotten in the sight of Godfrey's
misery, entered my studio with the assured step
of one who had the freedom of it; and I
instinctively at his coming, withdrew from that
close embrace in which we, a brother and sister,
clasped each other.  It was as though I forsook
him in the fiercest moment of the storm,  that
was beating down his hopes with a great fall,
and slipped away into a safe and sunny refuge,
inaccessible to him. James Saville told him of our
mutual love frankly and joyously; and
Godfrey listened, gazing directly into our faces, with
features set like a mask of iron.