CHAPTER IV.

And it is not because love hath blinded thee, for that surpasseth his supposed omnipotence, but it is because thy tender heart having always leaned affectionately upon good, hath felt and known nothing of evil.

LANDOR'S Conversations.

How much is there in the heart, that it cares not to understand! We do not often question it too closely; we give the reins over to the head, and the head does the business. Consciousness is talked down by reasoning,-scruples by examples. We are wonderfully led by what Mrs. or Miss so and so have done before us, and rarely take the expediency in a case of doubt, as was recommended by a clever person,

of choosing the side which we find the least

agreeable.

But Miss Aylmer had done everything her reason dictated to her to do. So far she had done her duty; and as the pleasing perspective of more and greater duties opened before her, she prayed she might acquit herself with equal propriety; and one of these duties was, to make full confession of her feelings, up to the present hour, to Mr. Waldegrave.

She was no Catholic, but she believed in the virtue of confession. Few would take a servant without a character; and that sweet servant, to love and to obey, required a character as much as any steward in whom you would repose confidence. And with plainness and conciseness, and sweet simplicity, she promised to begin it.

And the opportunity was not long wanting. They were conversing one day after dinner, and he had drawn his chair closer to her than was customary with him, and he said,

"A poet compares the object of his love. with a bird whose plumage assumes the hues of every flower and precious stone! what shall I compare you to, Miss Aylmer? and what myself? Love has no foresight, always deceitful; its confidence and its fears, are perhaps equally unfounded. It agitates its victims, when they might enjoy repose; and blinds them, when all is lost.

"I sometimes resort to my imagination to escape from unutterable fears that assail me; but my presages hang like barbed arrows across me. I dwell upon my sorrows, I suppress for a time every warm feeling-emotion; exist in a carelessness, hardness, and forgetfulness, and give way to all the recklessness that possesses me. And then my bright bird turns upon me her glowing wing! and the mind is dazzled, that is trying to dim itself with darkness. Rosalind! is it thus you try the feelings of the man who loves you, dotes on

you in this very inconsistency? Do not tam per with my age,-in this respect it has not deadened me. I see the charms, the fascinations with which nature has endowed you, with a more lively delight, than I could at any former period of my life. I see the Paradise a communion with a cultivated mind, a playful imagination, affords me. Everything I do, I say, I read, has a new charm with me; and when I impart an idea that I see gives you pleasure, it is a new bond of union with my own sweet bird, my fond bird!”

For Rosalind had left her chair, and was leaning over the back of his, as he sat. She had felt it convenient to conceal her countenance; but there was, as he said, a fondness in the manner in which she had taken her position, that in no way repressed him. And he kept down his breath, and listened calmly, as she said,

"You may believe, Mr. Waldegrave, my

heart is made for love; and I have loved

in secret loved! and do not let me lose all claim to your good opinion in confessing, that perhaps it was unwisely, but too well!' Ori

ginality has always charmed me; and fancy is sometimes very foolish ;" then after a pause, she said—a slight pause," I believe it was the shadow I loved- of what was to follow.

It is strange," and she stopped between each word; and there was a trepidation in her voice, covered by a slight laugh, as she continued, "but one object only seems to have possessed me; enigmatical, it is true, taken either way

backwards or forwards it is still an affecI confess it may

tion that has possessed me.

seem inconsistent, but not inconsistent to you." And the you felt the pressure of her soft hands; and her breath passed so near his cheek, flushed into "a snatch of youth," by the ardour of his feelings, that, though she had much more to say, he turned, and caught her to his heart, in a long and fervent pressure.