ETHEL CHURCHILL.
61
CHAPTER IX.
A SCENE BY MOONLIGHT.
Thou canst not restore me
The depth and the truth
Of the love that came o'er me
In earliest youth.
Their gloss is departed,
Their magic is flown;
And sad, and faint-hearted,
I wander alone.
Ethel and Mr. Courtenaye both walked on in silence, both careless of what direction they took, and solitary, even in that glittering crowd, each alive only to the other's presence. At length each stopped, as if moved by a sudden and mutual feeling; perhaps Ethel, unconsciously, obeyed the movement of Norbourne, to whom the quick, silent walk, had become intolerable. On his part, there might,
