Mary gently assisted her, kissed her pale cheeks, and went to her own room; whilst Alice, sorry that she could not find it in her heart to be more grateful, remained long awake, thinking of Cunnington. 'Oh, that we had never met!" exclaimed the unhappy girl; "it is not only that he is fickle, but what a love to prefer to mine! -his hand, as free as mine, yet his heart dwelling on that hateful bond; I would give him up without a sigh, if I could kneel at my rival's feet, and beg her to save him and herself from shame." could Oh! could Cunnington have seen the wan look of that young countenance, he have counted the quenchless tears which fell from the once bright joyous eyes!-but these signs were nought to the cankered worm of sorrow, which was creeping nearer and nearer, and yet unwilling to blight so warm a heart. More composed, yet much pained for her friend's sorrow, Mary Grey sunk upon her knees when she reached her room; and, by the doubtful light of the lamp, her fair hair in disorder, partly concealing her face, she looked almost the Mary Grey of other days-but how different were her feelings! It is only those who have loved, and cured themselves of the sorrow of a disappointment, who can really feel for the grief of love when sorrow has mixed in its cup. They feel that the bitterness of those first tears will be softened, that there will come a time when, looking calmly at the past, the female heart asks itself, "Can I have fretted so much?" but then, too, the victim of that resignation feels most acutely the many sensations which are a prelude to that calm; severe is the tempest ere the sky will be serene, and then that II. 15 resignation is such a grim shadow of true happiness! Mary Grey knew that very bitter are the smiles which are worn to conceal a disappointed heart; that light words are frequently sorrow in disguise, and that second love is very different to the love so fresh in early days; and, changed in heart, softened in every feeling, Mary Grey prayed for Alice Lemington, prayed for her happiness;—such, oh, Providence, are the wonderful workings and changes of the human heart! END OF VOL. II. Caud J. Adlard, Printers, Bartholomew Close. |