found that the report of his marriage with his cousin was universal. That, however, was of small consequence, compared with a consciousness, that daily forced itself upon him, of a preference on the part of that cousin. It would be too cruel to encourage such a fancy for a moment. He could not but perceive that the faint colour never visited her pale cheek but when he spoke to her; that her eyes unconsciously followed him; and that the slightest opinion he expressed became, from that moment, hers.
One morning he had admired the perfume of a rare flower which she had in her hand. A taste for flowers had been among her few enjoyments, and her father had indulged this taste at a most lavish cost: the hothouse at Norbourne Park was the admiration of the country. The next morning he found the room he deemed peculiarly his own, filled with plants of the same description. Constance had sent to the Park for them. There was nothing in the attention beyond that ready kindness which
