This last, most insulting clause was cast at him with a glance of insufferable scorn, as she turned to leave the room. His brow crimsoned with the sudden smite of shame, and "This from you, India!" he exclaimed. She was looking at him still; but the scorn and anger slowly passed from her face, as he rose and advanced towards her, saying "But you are excited; I will not lay your bitter words to heart, nor suffer you to leave me in anger. Dearest India!" She had already regretted her sharp words; love and anger were balanced in her bosom so evenly, that it took but a trifle to disturb the equilibrium; and now his forbearance and his kind words completely upset the scale, and love ascended. Turning to him once more, and throwing herself in his open arms, she burst into tears, and said "Dearest Mark, only give up this mad, mad project, and I am all yours. Oh, you know I am, any way; for even now the separation that would pain you, would kill or madden me! But, oh! you know I cannot endure the hardships you would prepare for me; they would be equally fatal. Give it up, Mark! Dear Mark, give it up, for my sake, for your dear mother's sake, for all our sakes! Stay with us! do not divide us, and break our hearts, by leaving us! We all love you so! you know we do! We would do anything in the world for you, if you would stay with us! And I only grow angry and lose my senses, and utter mad words, when you talk of leaving us! Don't go, Mark! Dearest Mark, don't leave us." And so she pleaded, hiding her tears and blushes on his shoulder, and clasping, and pressing, and kissing his neck and cheek. The pleadings of young beauty to young love, most powerful, most painful to resist, yet they were resisted, mournfully, but calmly and firmly, resisted. She raised her head from his shoulder. "And you persist in your purpose?" she said. "My India, I cannot do otherwise." "Notwithstanding all the suffering you may cause your mother, your relatives, and me?" "My own India, I would I could bear all your grief in my own person." "But you adhere to your resolution?" "I have no alternative." "And this is your final decision?" He bowed. "Even if you should lose me for ever?" He started, as if suddenly struck by a bullet. He changed colour, but did not speak. She regarded him fixedly. At last she said, slowly and calmly— "Will you please to answer my question ?" "India," he said, "I will not for a moment, admit such a possibility. God will never repay fidelity to conscience with calamity." The "Perhaps it might not be a calamity. I think it were well we should understand each other. question is now before you-do not evade it." "My India, it is not practically before me. No, thank Heaven, the intolerable alternative of resigning you or my principles is not yet before me." "By all our past dreams, and present hopes, of happiness, I assure you that the alternative is now sub mitted to you, sir. And I adjure you, by your conscience, and by the strength of your vaunted principles, to decide the question, which I now repeat to you-if the adherence of your present purpose in volve the final loss of my hand and heart, do you still persist in that purpose?" Something in her tone caught up his glance, to rivet it upon her. Never in all their lives had she seemed to him so beautiful, so regnant, so irresistibly attrac tive. He gazed upon, he studied her face; nor did she turn it from him, nor avert her glance. She met his searching gaze proudly, fearlessly, imperially; she seemed to wish that he should read her soul, and know its immutable determination. There was no pique, no anger, no weakness, or wavering, on that high, haughty brow now; there was nothing but calm, indomitable resolution. He gazed upon her in wonder, and in sorrow, some time fascinated by the imperious beauty of her young brow, and marvelling that this could be the tender, seductive woman that lay cooing on his bosom scarce an hour ago. It would not do to waver now. He took her hand again. He answered, solemnly "India, you have adjured me, by my conscience, by the sacredness of my honour, to answer your question, and say whether, were the alternative finally before me, I should resign my resolution, or be resigned by you. India, I may not, must not, evade this. And I answer now, by my sacred honour and my hopes of heaven, come what may, of trial, of suffering, or of agony, I will never forego this purpose, to which reason and conscience alike urge me." "And that is your final determination ?" He bowed. "Now, then, hear mine; but first I give you back your plighted troth and its less perishable symbol"here she drew a diamond ring from her finger, and handed it to him-" and I remove your image from my heart with less difficulty than I disentangle this miniature one from my chain"-here she took a locket, set with diamonds, from her chatelaine, and handed him. He received both pledges back, and stood with a certain mournful dignity, awaiting her further words and actions. "And now," she said, "let me make you thoroughly acquainted with my thought upon this subject which so interests you, so that you may see how far, as the East is from the West, is my thought from yours. Know, that I like the position that I occupy, the power that I wield; our plantation is as large as a German or Italian principality; our people are better governed, more prosperous, and more profitable, than the subjects of such a principality. We have more power than its prince. And I was born to this power; I am accustomed to it; I like it. Heaven crowned me with it; and do you think that I will discrown my brow to become-what? A drudging peasant? NEVER! And now, hear my oath. As you are the 'dupe' of a party, we separate, never to meet again until you have recovered manhood and independence enough to abjure this pernicious influence, and abandon the mad project to which it has forced you-so help me God!" And, turning haughtily away, she left the room. CHAPTER VII. REACTION. "Pray Heaven for firmness thy whole soul to bend With thoughts all fixed and feelings purely kind; And grace to give the praise where all is due."-Charles Wilcox. It was over. Until this, he had not realized his true position. Nay, he did not fully realize it now. He sat, as one stunned, in the seat into which he had dropped when the door closed behind her. Until now, he had been elevated by a high enthusiasm in his purpose, and supported by a firm faith in her sympathy and co-operation—a faith, the strength of which he had not known until it was stricken from him, and he was left weaker than a child. Why! it really had not seemed so great a sacrifice to resign wealth and position with her by his sidewith her approving looks, and smiles, and words-with her cordial, affectionate concurrence. And how often the picture had glowed before his imagination, as he recalled her kindling cheek, and kindling eye, and fervent imagination, while reading with him of some heroic deed of self-devotion in another! And when he thought of all that earnest enthusiasm with himself for its object-forgive him, it was no better than a lover's aspiration, perhaps; but all his soul took fire at her image, and all things seemed easy to do, to be, or to suffer, for such an unspeakable joy. That he |