Basil

in the different events I have described. After that period, and-with one or two exceptional cases-through

mentary suspicion. I can now look back on them, as so many timely warnings which I treated with fatal neglect. It is in these events that the history of the long year through which I waited to claim m

be what was the nature of my intercourse with Margaret, d

power any resistance on his part. I required him to concede to me the right of seeing Margaret every day-leaving all arrangements of time to depend on his own convenience. After the due number of objections, he reluctantly acquiesce

vening. When any alteration in the hour of my visit took place, that alteration was produced by th

display before me, some of her knowledge of languages-which he never forgot to remind us had been lavishly paid for out of his own pocket. It was at one of these exhibitions that the idea occurred to me of making a new pleasure for myself out of Margaret's society, by teaching her really to appreciate and enjoy the literature which she had evidently

ence I might have committed for her sake. I was determined that my father, especially, should have no other argument against her than the one ungracious argument of her birth-that he should see her, fitted by the beauty of her mind, as well as by all h

you and her? When is your face so constantly close to hers as it is then?-when can your hair mingle with hers, your cheek touch hers, your eyes meet hers, so often as they can then? That is, of all times, the only time when you can breathe with her breath for hours together; feel every little warming of the colour on her cheek marking its own changes on the temperature of yo

ving Margaret's intellect, that was a purpose which insensibly and deceitfully abandoned me as completely as if it had never existed. The little serious teaching I tried with her at first, led to very poor results. Perhaps, the lover interfered too much with the tutor; perhaps, I had over-estimated the fertility of the faculties I designed to cultivate-but I

them, obliged me to live with Margaret, it was Mrs. Sherwin who was generally selected to remain in the room with us. By no one

at these periods (as I had at first supposed): but lost in a strange lethargy of body and mind; a comfortless, waking trance, into which she fell from sheer physical weakness-it was like the vacancy and feebleness of a first convalescence, after a long illness. She never changed: never looked better, never worse. I often spoke to her: I tried hard to show my sympathy,

to repress the little endearments to which each evening's lesson gave rise; but was just sufficiently perceptible to invest them with the character of stolen endearments, and to make them all the more precious on that

ing together: her hand is in mine; my heart is with hers. Love, and Youth, and Beauty-the mortal Trinity of this world's worship-are there, in that quiet softly-lit room; but not alone. Away in the dim light behind, is a solitary figure, ever mournful and ever still. It is a woman's form; but how wasted and how weak!-a woman's fac

n to my narrative: its course begins to

. Margaret's powers of conversation were generally only employed to lead me to exert mine. She was never tired of inducing me to speak of my family. She listened with every appearance of interest, while I talked of my father, my sister, or my elder brother; but whenever she questioned

about how she should treat his peculiarities when she was introduced to him. But, on all these occasions, what really interested her most, was to hear how many servants waited on him; how often he went to Court; how many lords and ladie

subject especially interested Margaret; she could question me on it, over and over again. What was Clara's usual morning dress? How did she wear her hair? What was her evening dress? Did she make a difference between a dinner party and a ball? What colours did she

practise the pianoforte much? How many offers had my sister had? Did she go to Court, as well as my father? What did she talk about to gentlemen, and what did gentlemen talk about to her? If she were spe

n attempting to describe shawls, gowns, and bonnets; and taught me the exact millinery language which I ought to have made use of with an arch expression of triumph and a burlesque earnestness of manner, that always enchanted me. At that time, every word she uttered, no matter how frivolous, was the sweetest of all music to my ears. It was o

me-my eyes were dazzled; my mind lay asleep under it. Once or twice, a cloud came threatening, with chill and s