"Trifles light as air, <T era confirmations strong as proofs of hoi y writ."
in consequence of which I only loved, to be miserable, and render the object loved equally so.
I exchanged no more words with Whar- lon, but turning to Lilian, I said, with all the coolness my boiling blood would al low :
"So, then, the riddle is solved. Had you been frank enough to have informed me that you expected particular company to-night, I should certainly, ere this, have ridden you of my presence."
"0, Francis," cried Lilian, with an im ploring, reproachful look, from eyes moist with tears; " you are mistaken! indeed, indeed you are !"
"0, yes, of course," I replied, bitterly, as I coolly drew on my glove, and prepared to take my final leave : "Of course I am, or was, mistaken; but I shall not be like ly to be again immediately, I presume. Farewell, Miss Huntly!" I continued, coldly, rudely extending to her my gloved hand, " I shall probably never see you again, as I leave at an early hour in the morning."
0, what a look she gave me at that mo ment, of sweet, heart-touching, mournful reproach a look which haunted me for days, for weeks, for months, for years a look which, were I an artist, would per- ad venture be found upon every face I painted.
il Francis!" she gasped, and sunk faint ing and colorless upon a seat.
This, in spite of my jealous feelings, touched me sensibly, and I ws on the point of springing to her aid, when Whar- ton passed me for the purpose. I could stand no more the devil was in me and with a scarcely suppressed imprecation upon my lips, I rushed out of the apart ment.
In the hall I met my friend Charles.
"Ha! Frank," he exclaimed, "you
seem flurried. What has happened?"
"Ask me no questions," I replied,
feinting with my finger to the apaitment had just quitted. " Give my kind re gards to your parents, and bid them fare well for me."
"But stay a moment."
"No! I must go; " and 1 seized my hat and made for the door.
"All ready for the start in the morning. I suppose, Frank?"
"Ay, for to-night, if you choose," Ire- plied, as I hurried down the steps leading to the street.
I paused a moment, as my feet touched the pavement, and as 1 did so, heard the voice of Huntly summoning the servants to the aid of his sister. I waited to hear no more, but darted away down the street, like a madman, scarcely knowing, and caring less, whither I went.
Such was my parting with Lilian Huntiy.
At last I found my way home, and soft ly stealing to my chamber, threw myself upon the bed but not to sleep. I slept none that night. My brain was like a heated furnace. I rolled to and fro in the greatest mental torture I had 'ever en dured.
Morn came at last, and with it Charles Huntly, all prepared for the journey. I ate a morsel, pointed out my trunks, sighed a farewell to my parents, jumped into the carriage, and was whirled away with great rapidity.
Charles looked pale and sad, and was not loquacious. I wanted him to talk to speak of Lilian but he carefully avoided any allusion to her. I was dying to know how he left her, but would not question him on the subject. I inquired how he left the family, however, and he replied :
"Indifferently well."
"Well," sighed I, to myself, "she lovee another, so why should I care?"
Half-past seven, and the rushing, roll ing, rumbling cars, were bearing us swift ly away. Fifteen minutes more, and the city of our nativity had faded from our view, perhaps forever.
W T e were speeding on ward- -thirty miles per hour westward ho!
