that Pembroke had seen there before—a look that made the elder brother's strong heart ache. Any disappointment to Olivia was a stab to this unfortunate young soul. Men, as nature made them, are not magnanimous in love. Only some frightful misfortune like this poor boy's can make them so.
Presently Miles continued, hesitatingly:
"You must go to see her very early to-morrow. You know they return to Virginia early in the week."
"I can't go," answered Pembroke, wounding himself, and the brother that he loved better than himself, in order to wound Olivia. "I must go to New York early to-morrow morning, on business. I was notified ten days ago."
Miles said no more.
Early the next morning Pembroke was off, leaving a note for Olivia, which that young lady showed her father, and then, running up to her own room, tore into bits—and then she burst into tears. And yet it was a most kind, cordial, friendly note. When Pembroke returned, the Berkeleys had left town for the season.
