CHAPTER XXIV.
CONFIDENCE.
Fear not to trust her destiny with me:
I can remember, in my early youth,
Wandering amid our old ancestral woods,
I found an unfledged dove upon the ground.
I took the callow creature to my care,
And fain had given it to its nest again:
That could not be, and so I made its home
In my affection, and my constant care.
I made its cage of osier-boughs, and hung
A wreath of early leaves and woodland flowers:
I hung it in the sun; and, when the wind
Blew from the cold and bitter east, 'twas screened
With care that never knew forgetfulness.
I loved it, for I pitied it, and knew
Its sole dependence was upon my love.
"I understood, my lord, that you wished to see me," said Norbourne Courtenaye, with the calm, cold manner, that had marked his bearing to his uncle since his marriage had been decided upon: "I fear that I have kept
