telling him of her situation. Colonel Pollexfen
was conscience-stricken by this letter. He
declared to the brothers that he intended to
act as became a man of honour, and wrote to
Mary with something of his old affection
revived by remorse: excusing his past silence
begging forgiveness, and promising to go
down to see her, the instant he could obtain
leave of absence.

Under the influence of this letter Mary
revived; but the impression made upon her
future husband soon passed away—he daily
felt less inclination to perform his promise.
He was living in the midst of fashionable
society, and was more courted than ever, since
by the death of his father he had come into
possession of his fortune. He began to feel
that he had decidedly thrown himself away;
and by a most unnatural transition, he hated
Mary for her claims upon him, and considered
himself a very ill-used victim.

Mary's brothers finding that Colonel Pollexfen
did not follow his letter, nor show any
signs of fulfilling his engagement, would not
submit to any more trifling. The elder
made a journey to London, and demanded
satisfaction, with the intimation that the
younger brother would claim the same right
when the first affair was terminated.

Colonel Pollexfen was not, of course, afraid
of having even two duels on his hands at
once; he had already proved his courage too
well to allow a suspicion of that sort. His
answer was characteristic. He told young
Chambellan that he was quite ready to meet
both him and his brother, but that he was
under a previous engagement to marry their
sister, which he wished to perform first, as
otherwise circumstances might occur to
prevent it; he should then be quite at their
service, as it was his intention to quit his
bride at the church door, and never to see her
again!

The brothers, looking upon this as a pretext
to evade the marriage altogether, resolved,
after some deliberation, to accept his proposal.
They had great difficulty in prevailing upon
their sister to agree to their wishes; but they
none of them seriously believed that he would
carry out his threat, and Mary fancied that
all danger of a duel would be evaded. A
very liberal settlement was drawn up by
Colonel Pollexfen's direction, which he signed
and sent down to the bride's family. On the
day appointed, Mary and her brothers repaired
to the church; a travelling chariot and four
horses stood at the door. On entering, they
found Colonel Pollexfen pointing out to the
friend who accompanied him the monuments
belonging to the Chambellan family. As
soon as he perceived them he took his place at
the altar, and the ceremony commenced without
delay. As soon as it was concluded, he
bowed with great politeness to all present,
and said, " You are all here witnesses that I
have performed my engagement! " Then, without
even looking at his bride, he quitted the
church, and, accompanied by his friend,
entered the carriage which was in waiting,
and drove rapidly away ! Mary was carried
senseless from the church, and for several
weeks continued dangerously ill.

The real strength of her character now
showed itself. She made no complaint; she
did not even assume her husband's name, but
took the appellation of Mrs. Chambellan.
The settlement was returned to Colonel
Pollexfen's lawyer, with an intimation that it
would never be claimed. She stilled the
anger of her brothers, and would not endure
a word to be said against her husband. She
never alluded to him herself. A great change
came over her; she did not seem to suffer
nearly so much from her cruel position as
might have been expected; her melancholy
and depression gave place to a steady
determination of purpose. In the brief space
during which she and her husband had
stood before the altar, she had realised the
distance that existed between their positions in
life. With a rare superiority, she understood
how natural it was that he should have felt
no desire to fulfil his boyish engagement;
she owned in her heart that she was not fitted
to be the wife and companion of such a man
as he had now become. Had she seen all
this sooner, she would have at once released
him; now she could no longer do so, and
she resolved to fit herself to fill the station to
which, as his wife, she had been raised.

The brief interview before the altar had
stimulated to desperation her attachment to
him: and she felt that she must win him back
or die. Mary had received very little education.
In those days the instruction bestowed
on most women was very limited; but Mary
fancied that all gentlewomen, who moved in
society, were well informed; and her first step
was to obtain some elementary books from
the master of a boys' school at York, and
begin, with undoubting simplicity, to learn
history and geography, and all the things
which she supposed every lady of her
husband's acquaintance knew. A thirst
for information was soon aroused in her;
she had few advantages and very little
assistance; but her energy and perseverance
surmounted all obstacles, and she found a
present reward in her labour. Her life
ceased to seem either lonely or monotonous.
Still, the spirit that worked within her was
far more precious than any actual result she
obtained. She had a noble object in view;
and, unconsciously to herself, it purified her
heart from all bitterness, or wounded vanity,
or impatience. A great sorrow nobly borne,
is a great dignity. The very insult which had
seemed to condemn her to a wasted existence,
was transformed into a source of life
and fruitfulness, by the wise humility with
which she accepted it.

Ten years passed thus, and in the matured
woman of thirty, few could have recognised
the forsaken girl of nineteen. But the present