cousin, Lord Norboume's daughter. It is a splendid match. I thought him épris with our pretty Ethel, but the present marriage is quite one of interest. They are just now keeping the honeymoon: but, with such an heiress! I say that it ought to be called the harvest-moon!"
Ethel started to her feet, the rich flush that had covered her cheek at the first mention of his name died into deadly paleness. The dew started on her forehead, and her eyes dilated with a wild, strange expression; their very blue seemed curdled and glazed. She snatched the letter from Sir Jasper, who started as her icy hand touched his: she attempted to read the passage herself, but the letters seemed to swim before her gaze: they turned to fire; the paper dropped from her grasp; a thick mist appeared to gather over the room; she gave a convulsive shudder, and dropped on the floor perfectly insensible.
It would have spared her a world of wretchedness, had she never recovered from that death-like trance. Truly did the ancients say,
