THE SMUGGLER. 293 



felt a double pang; and that was a strong motive for calmness, 

 if not for fortitude. Her last words, " I wish I were deadl" 

 restored him fully to himself; and following her to the sofa, he 

 seated himself beside her, gently took her hand in his, and 

 pressed his lips upon it. 



" Edith," he said; "my own dear Edith, let us be calm! 

 Thank you, my beloved, for one moment of happiness, the 

 first I have known for years; and now let us talk, as quietly 

 as may be, of anything that may have arisen which should 

 justly cause Henry Lay ton's return to make P^dith Croyland 

 wish herself dead. Your uncle will not be long ere he arrives; 

 I left him on the road; and it is by his full consent that I 

 am here." 



" Oh, no! Harry, no!" said Edith, turning at first to his 

 comment on her words: " it is not your return that makes me 

 wish myself dead ; but it is, that circumstances, dark and ter- 

 rible circumstances, which were only made known to me an 

 hour before your arrival, have turned all the joy, the pure, the 

 almost unmixed joy, that I should have felt at seeing you again, 

 into a well of bitterness. It is that I cannot, that I dare not 

 explain to you those circumstances; that you will think me 

 wrong, unkind, fickle, perhaps; perhaps even mad, in what- 

 soever way I may act." 



" But surely you can say something, dear Edith," said her 

 lover; " you can give some hint of the cause of all I see. You 

 tell me in one breath that you love me still, yet wish you 

 were dead; and show evidently that my coming has been 

 painful to you." 



"Xo, no, Harry," she answered, mournfully, "do not say 

 so. Painful to me? oh no I It would be the purest joy that 

 ever I yet knew, were it not that But why did you not come 

 earlier, Harry ? Why, when your horse stood upon that hill, 

 did you not turn his head hither? Would that you had, would 

 that you had! My fate would have been already decided. 

 Xow it is all clouds and darkness. I knew you instantly. I 

 could see no feature ; I could but trace a figure on horseback, 

 wrapped in a large cloak ; but the instinct of love told me who 

 it was. Oh! why did you not come then?" 



t; Because it would have been dishonest, Edith," answered 

 Liyton, gravely. " Your uncle had been my father's friend, 

 iiiy uncle's friend. In a kindly manner he invited me here 



