why I have been crying. He was in his room,
up stairs, I think, just now, and he may have
come down, and I am sure I could not stand
before him as I am. You have, indeed, made
me miserable. Oh! Tom, Tom, do tell me
what this is?"

"I cannot tell you," he replied, " it would
not be right to breathe a word about it till I
have surer ground for my suspicion. Let me
dry your eyes, and now go back into the
parlour, or your absence will be observed."

Twice he bade her "good night " before she
left him, and each time I saw him put his
arms about her, and kiss her; then he called
after her—

"Lucy!"

She turned back, and ran up to him.

"I hardly know why I called you back.
Only, I may not see you again for some time,
and it may be many, many days, before I can
speak to you alone."

"Well?"

I trembled for what he was about to say,
and in my anxiety to catch his words, I put
my ear closer, and, in so doing, struck the
door of the ventilator.

"Hark! I thought I heard something
moving. Go, go!" said Tom. "Good night!
Good night!" And she glided across the
hall, and was gone in a moment.

In the eagerness with which I had listened
to their conversation, I had not had time to
feel the terrible blow which I had received.
It was only when the voices ceased, that I
felt how all my hopes had been shattered in a
moment. I relaxed my hold; and, alighting
on the ground, walked again to and fro—but
more hurriedly than before. I had never
dreamed of this: Tom Lawton!

I sat down upon the garden-seat, and wept
and sobbed like a child—the first time for
many years. I could not help feeling angry
with them both. "Oh!" thought I, "Tom
Lawton, you were right in thinking that I
should never pardon you for this. You have
taken away the one hope of my life. I shall
hate you while I live. Lucy, also, I blame; but
my anger is chiefly with you. In order to
shield you, she would have told me, poor
child, that she only was to blame; but I know
better. You have laid snares for her, and
inveigled her; your heart told you that you had,
when you put the words into my mouth."

I walked about and sat down again several
times. I groaned aloud, for my heart was
swelled almost to bursting. So I continued
for some time fiercely denouncing my rival to
myself; but that night, upon my bed, when I
was worn out with my passion, a better
feeling came upon me. I grew more calm
and resigned to my misfortune. I saw how
useless nay, how wrong, would be all
persecution; and I felt that it was natural that
the young should love the young before the
old. So, with a sorrowful and humbled
spirit, I resolved to encourage them and
bring about their union. God knows how
much the resolution cost me; but it brought
with it a certain peace of mind—a consciousness
of doing rightly—which sustained me in
my purpose. I would not delay a day, lest my
resolution should waver. In the morning I
walked into the parlour, and bidding Tom
Lawton follow me, stood there before him and
Lucy. Tom looked pale, as if he dreaded my
anger.

"I expect," said I, "a direct answer to what
I am going to ask you. Have you not given
your faith to one another?"

Tom turned paler still; but Lucy answered
before he could say a word, and confessing all,
said she took the blame upon herself; but
Tom interrupted her, exclaiming that he only
was to blame.

"There is no blame attached to either,"
said I, " except for a little concealment, for
which I pardon you."

Thus far I had done the duty which I had
set before me; but I did not feel it to be
completed till they were married.

About three months after I gave my
permission, and the day was fixed. I saw them
the happiest creatures upon earth. They never
knew my secret. That Tom had suspected
it, and that it was to that he referred when
he was speaking to Lucy in the Hall, I had
never doubted; though the readiness with
which I had befriended them had deceived
him. He had taken a small house, and everything
was ready. But, on the day before their
wedding, my heart failed me. I knew then
that I had never ceased to love her, and I
could not endure the thought of her marriage.
I felt that I must go away until the day was
past; so I gave out that I had suddenly
received a summons to go into the country, and
that it was my wish that the marriage should
not be delayed on that account. That night
I went away, not caring whither.

I know what were my thoughts in those
two days that I was absent. When I
returned, the Hall was silent—Lucy was gone;
and I was again alone in the old place.

I remain there.

MERCY.

God looked, and smiled, upon the wakening earth—
   In form, power, motion, wondrous and complete—
Which, in the flush and beauty of new birth,
   Breasted the seas of ether at His feet;
Earth with companion-worlds, that throbbed and shone
With warmth and light transmitted from His throne,
On noiseless axles ever spinning round,
And moving evermore along the vast profound.

He called to Him three ministers, who wait
   Unceasing on His wise and sovereign will,
Servants, and yet partakers of His state,
   And watchers of all human good and ill;
An Angel-shaped Triumvirate they seemed,
Whose lofty-throned foreheads ever beamed,
August in presence as they are in name,
And clothed in flowing robes of many-coloured flame.