ETHEL CHURCHILL.
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CHAPTER XXVIII.
A PROJECT.
The sun was setting o'er the sea,
A beautiful and summer sun;
Crimson and bright, as if not night,
But rather day had just begun:
That lighted sky, that lighted sea,
They spoke of Love and Hope to me.
I thought how Love, I thought how Hope,
O'er the horizon of my heart
Had pour'd their light like yonder sun;
Like yon sun, only to depart:
Alas! that ever suns should set,
Or Hope grow cold, or Love forget!
"I see no remedy!" exclaimed Henrietta, who had hurried to Ethel on the first intelligence of this new misfortune, "but a direct application to Sir Robert Walpole. I have tried every method to induce Lord Marchmont
