might have been if I had returned all Mr. Forbes's
feelings."

But she sighed; perhaps the prospect of being
so very good seemed a little austere to my young
cousin. Aunt. Mary came in and put an end to
the conversation. I went out to smoke a cigar,
and did not see Jane till the next morning.

A pleasant blushing bride my cousin looked,
almost pretty, and quite happy. Mr. Forbes
as usual, very handsome; a little pale,
perhaps, but I am bound to say that he went through
the trying marriage ceremony with manly fortitude.
When it was over, he seemed to have cast
a weight of care away, and accepted our
congratulations and good wishes with something
like a happy smile. The wedding breakfast was
late, and I did not see much of him before we
all sat down; but, when we did so, I thought
Mr. Forbes looked a very excitable bridegroom,
and that even quiet little Jane had very fitful
spirits for a bride. I drew no conclusions until
Jane entered the library, where I stood alone,
to bid me good-bye. We had spent many pleasant
hours in that library, and I did not wonder that
Jane showed some emotion on finding me there.
But when she came up to me, and, instead of
taking my hand, threw her arms around my neck
and laid her cold cheek to mine, and burst into
sobs and tears, I felt a wonder verging on alarm.

"Jane, my dear girl, my darling, what ails
you?" I said, anxiously.

"I am going away," she sobbed; "oh, cousin
William, I am going away"

She would say no more. She was going away,
but surely she had known that all along; and
surely it was not to go and leave us that could
put her in such a state of despair as this. I could
get no explanation from her. There was no time.
The carriage was waiting; they were looking
for her.

"I am coming, I am coming!" she cried, darting
from me, and speaking in a light-hearted
voice. I followed her out. Mr. Forbes handed
her into the carriage, stepped in after her, and
my little cousin Jane, now Mrs. Forbes, was
gone for ever from amongst us.

Jane had not been long married when my
father died. Aunt Mary was ordered to the
south of France, and I remained alone with the
housekeeper. These were dreary days. I wished
now I had proposed to Jane, and married her;
I fancied we should have made a happier couple
than Mr. and Mrs. Forbes. She wrote now
and then; she never complained, but she
never once said, "I am happy." She praised
Mr. Forbes and his house, and spoke of her
position and her comforts—of herself, never. The
theme that most frequently recurred in her
letters was Arthur, Mr. Forbes's little boy. She
recorded his sayings and doings with evident
fondness, and I began to think that a young
bride whose mind was so much engrossed by her
husband's child could not be a very happy one.
I had received a general invitation to Mr. Forbes's
house, and though Jane did not once remind me
of it, I resolved to visit the Elms. It would be
a change; besides, I wanted to see why Jane was
not happy. I am bound to say that, though my
visit was unexpected, Mr. Forbes received me
very cordially.

"Jane will be delighted to see you," he said;
"she is out with my little boy."

Jane came in presently with a sickly peevish-
looking little fellow—the wonderful Arthur,
about whom she had had so much to write. She
coloured on seeing me, but delight in her face I
saw not. If I could have believed it of Jane,
I should have thought she was sorry I had
come. She stammered a welcome, however,
but, as I soon perceived, shunned every opportunity
of remaining alone with me. Once I caught
her on the staircase.

"Well, Jane, are you happy?" I whispered.

"Oh, quite happy," she replied, airily. " Is
not the Elms a charming place?" And she
made her escape.

Yes, the Elms was a charming place; a brown
old house, spacious and convenient, with a gay
flower-garden around it, and beyond this a region
of ancient elm-trees scattered on a grassy slope.
Truly the mistress of this pleasant abode and
well-ordered household, the wife of that handsome
agreeable gentleman, ought to have been a
happy woman; but she was not. I saw it at
once. Jane had grown thin and pale, and looked
sad and careworn. Nor did Mr. Forbes look a
happy man. I did not like the rigid lines which
a few months had made in his handsome face.
He was very kind to his wife, and strictly polite;
but of fondness, of love, of tenderness, I saw no
sign. He kept these for his child, who was
certainly one of the most ill-tempered little
three-year-old wretches I had ever seen. Yet Jane
seemed to rival her husband in doting affection
for that little monkey, who began our acquaintance
by making faces at me, and followed it up
by biting my leg before dinner. " He was a
great sufferer," apologetically said his father.

I thought I was the sufferer in this particular
instance, but I bore the pain—I have the mark
to this day—with that heroism which politeness
alone can inspire. I did not intend paying Mr.
Forbes and his wife a long visit; but our intentions
have little power over the course of events.
That same evening I took a walk with Mr.
Forbes, stumbled over the root of a tree, and
sprained my ankle. It was very provoking.
My sprain was one of the worst; the doctor who
was called in ordered rest-- total rest, he said.
In short, I was condemned to spend many days,
some weeks, perhaps, at the Elms. Mr. Forbes
behaved unexceptionably; he was cordial, he
was kind, he was hospitable; and my little Jane,
on seeing me in severe pain, became once more
my dear little Jane of old times. She was a
good deal with me—I mean alone with me. Her
husband had business in London, and went there
daily; and whilst I lay stretched on a sofa in
the parlour, Jane sat and worked and watched
Arthur and his maid out in the garden.