"At seven o'clock to-morrow evening wait for me at the haunted house. I will come and stay with you there until eleven."

"Oh, that is so long to wait! May I not see you sooner?"

"Impossible! I have a sacred duty to do to-morrow that will engage me all day. But you too will be busy. And we can look forward all day to our meeting in the evening. And after to-morrow we can meet every morning and spend the whole day together," said the traitress, sweetly.

"I suppose I must be content!" sighed the victim.

"Now good-night, dear. And good-bye until to-morrow night," murmured the siren, as she gave her lover a Judas kiss and dismissed him.

Mary Grey hurried into the drawing-room, where the Misses Crane were still sitting up.

"My dear Mrs. Grey, we feared that something had happened to you," said the elder Miss Crane.

"Oh, no! I went to see one of my Sunday-school pupils, whom I missed from my cla.s.s, and whom, upon inquiry, I found to be ill at home. I have spent the whole day with the sick child, except the hours spent at church. And I must go to see her again to-morrow morning," said the widow, with a patient smile.

"How good you are!" murmured Miss Crane.

Mary Grey shook her head deprecatingly, bowed good-night to the slim sisters and went upstairs to her own room.

Early the next morning Mary Grey, telling her hostesses that she was then going to sit with the sick child, left the old manor-house and walked rapidly to the railway station and took a ticket for Forestville, a village about twenty miles from the city, on the Richmond and Wendover Railroad.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A HAPPY LOVER.

The lover is a king; the ground He treads on is not ours; His soul by other laws is bound, Sustained by other powers.

Liver of a diviner life, He turns a vacant gaze Toward the theater of strife, Where we consume our days.

--R. M. MILNES.

On that Monday morning Alden Lytton left Blue Cliff Hall with his heart full of joy and thankfulness.

He was the accepted lover of Emma Cavendish. And he was so somewhat to his own amazement, for he had not intended to propose to her so soon.

She was a very wealthy heiress, and he was a poor young lawyer, just about to begin the battle of life.

They were both still very young and could afford to wait a few years.

And, ardently as he loved her, he wished to see his way clearly to fame and fortune by his profession before presuming to ask the beautiful heiress to share his life.

But the impulse of an ardent pa.s.sion may, in some unguarded hour, overturn the firmest resolution of wisdom.

This was so in the case of Alden Lytton.

Up to Sat.u.r.day, the last day but one of his stay at Blue Cliff Hall, the lovers were not engaged.

Rumor, in proclaiming their engagement, had been, as she often is, beforehand with the facts.

But on that Sat.u.r.day evening, after tea, Alden Lytton found himself walking with Emma Cavendish up and down the long front piazza.

It was a lovely summer night. There was no moon, but the innumerable stars were shining with intense brilliancy from the clear blue-black night sky; the earth sent up an aroma from countless fragrant flowers and spicy shrubs; the dew lay fresh upon all; and the chirp of myriads of little insects of the night almost rivaled the songs of birds during the day. And so the night was filled with the sparkling light of stars, the fresh coolness of dew, the rich perfume of vegetation and the low music of insect life.

The near mountains, like walls of Eden, shut in the beautiful scene.

Alden Lytton and Emma Cavendish sauntered slowly up and down the long piazza feeling the divine influence of the hour and scene, without thinking much about either.

Indeed, they thought only of each other.

They were conscious that this was to be their last walk together for many months, perhaps for years.

Something to this effect Alden murmured.

He received no reply, but he felt a tear drop upon his hand.

Then he lost his self-control. The strong love swelling in his soul burst forth into utterance, and with impa.s.sioned tones and eloquent, though broken words, he told her of his most presuming and almost hopeless love.

And then he waited, trembling, for the rejection and rebuke that his modesty made him more than half expect.

But no such rebuff came from Emma Cavendish.

She paused in her walk, raised her beautiful eyes to his face and placed both her hands in his.

And in this manner she silently accepted him.

How fervently he thanked and blessed her!

Emma Cavendish had always been a dutiful daughter to the doting old lady in the "throne room;" so that night, before she slept, she went in and told her grandmother of her engagement to Alden Lytton.

Now, by all the rules of wrong, Madam Cavendish should have resolutely set her face against the betrothal of her wealthy granddaughter to a young lawyer with no fortune of his own and with his way yet to make in the world.

And if the old lady had been somewhat younger she would probably have done this very thing.

But as it was, she was "old and childish;" which means that she was more heavenly-minded and nearer heaven than she ever had been since the days of her own infancy and innocence.

So, instead of fixing a pair of terrible spectacled eyes upon the young girl and reading her a severe lecture upon "the eternal fitness of things," as ill.u.s.trated in wealth mating with wealth and rank with rank, she looked lovingly upon her granddaughter, held out her venerable hand, and drew her up to her bosom, kissed her tenderly, and said:

"Heaven bless you, my own darling! This has come rather suddenly upon me; but since, in the course of nature, you must some time marry, I do not know a young gentleman in this world to whom I would as soon see you married as to Mr. Alden Lytton. But, my child, I do not think you ought to be married very soon," she added.

"No, dear grandma, I know that," said Emma, kneeling down by her side and tenderly caressing and kissing her withered hands. "No, dear grandma, I will never leave you--never for any one--not even for him!"

"My darling child, you mistake my meaning. It is not for the selfish purpose of keeping you here near me that I advise you to defer your marriage for a time. It is because I think it is decorous that some months should elapse between the betrothal of a young pair and their wedding. Though, of course, there are some cases in which a short engagement and a speedy marriage become expedient or even necessary. As, for instance, my child, if I felt myself near death now I should certainly wish to hasten your marriage, rather than leave you unprotected in this world."

Emma Cavendish could only kiss her grandmother's hands and thank her through falling tears.

"And now; my child, I must go to sleep. I always want to go to sleep after anything exciting has happened to me. Good-night, and may Heaven bless you, my love!" said the old lady, affectionately, as she dismissed her granddaughter.

While Emma Cavendish was talking with her grandmother, Alden Lytton went into the parlor, where he found his sister alone, sitting by one of the windows, gazing thoughtfully out upon the beautiful night.