pretended not to understand it, and hastened with Calantha into the adjoining room. Lord Glenarvon followed and approached Lady Avondale: "Remember me in your prayers, my gentlest friend," he whispered. "Even in the still night let some remembrance of Glenarvon occur. Think of me, for I am jealous even of thy dreams." The angry glance of Gondimar interrupted the conference.
Calantha could not sleep that night. A thousand fears and hopes rushed upon her mind. She retired to her room: at one time seized a pen, and wrote, in all the agony of despair, a full confession of her guilty feelings to her husband; the next she tore the dreadful testimony of her erring heart, and addressed herself to heaven for mercy. But vain the struggle. From childhood's earliest day she never had refused herself one wish, one prayer. She knew not on the sudden how to curb the fierce and maddening fever that
