there is something in your manner, something in the expression of your eyes, that make me believe my happiness is not altogether a matter of indifference to you." These words, uttered in one of the sweetest voices by which ever human being was fascinated, were slowly and deliberately spoken, as if it was intended that they should rest on the ear of the object to whom they were addressed.
"My dear Mrs. Lorraine! it is impossible that I can have but one sentiment with regard to you, that of———"
"Of what, Mr. Grey?"
"Of solicitude for your welfare."
The lady gently took the arm of the young man, and then with an agitated voice, and a troubled spirit, dwelt upon the unhappiness of her lot, and the cruelty of her fortunes. Her husband's indifference was the sorrowful theme of her lamentations; and she ended by asking Mr. Vivian Grey's advice, as to the line of con-
