Aurora Floyd

rlornly hither and thither, hoping to find Aurora, now in the billiard-room, now in the drawing-room. He loitered in the hall upon the shallow pretence of looking at barometers and thermome

e furniture-pictures upon the walls, and not seeing one line in these Wardour-street productions. He had hoped that Aurora would appear at luncheon; but that dismal meal had been

ow many a man is watched by loving eyes whose light he never sees! how many a man is cared for by a tender heart whose secret he never learns! A little after dusk, Talbot Bulstrode

here were always wax candles upo

ight as day. He took the letter in one hand, while he lighted one of the candles on the chimney-piece with the other. The letter was from his mother. Aurora Floyd had told him that he would receive such a letter. What did it all mean? The gay flowers and birds upon the papered walls spun round him as he tore open the envelope. I firmly believe that we hav

a, then; the brooding shadow was slowly lifting its dark veil, and the face of her he loved best on earth appeared behind it. "But I know," continued that pitiless letter, "that the sense of honor is the strongest part of your nature, and tha

de's shaking hand could turn the leaf, every doubt, every fear, every present

u may imagine that in the course of the evening y

o fling it from him; but, no, it must be read. The shadow of doubt must be faced, and wrestled with

the Demoiselles Lespard by her father last June twelvemonth, and that less than a fortnight after arriving at the school she disappeared; her disappearance, of course, causing a great sensation and an immense deal of talk among the other pupils, as it was said she had run away. The matte

the letter consisted of motherly cautions and admoniti

into his bosom, and dropped

or ever from the woman he loved; this woman whom he loved so far from wisely, so fearfully well; this woman, for whom he had thanked God in the church only a few hours before. And she was to have been his wife - the mother of his children perhaps. He clasped his cold hands over his face, and sobbed aloud. Do not despise him for those drops of anguish: they were the virgin tears of his manhood. Never since infancy

quality which he had learned most to reverence in her nature was its sublime candor. He almost laughed at the recollection of his mother's solemn letter. It was so like these simple country people, whose lives had been bounded by the narrow limits of a Cornish village - it was so like them to make mountains out of the veriest mole-hills. What was there so wonderful in that which ha

of her French master, and running out of the school-room amid a tumult of ejaculatory babble. The beautiful, impetuous creature! Ther

gony; so the corridors and rooms were deserted when he went

om was dimly lighted by a shaded lamp, and Miss Floyd was seated in the uncurtained window, with her elbow resting on a cushioned ledge, looking out at the steel-cold wintry sky and

r looked round when Ta

aid, "I have been look

at the sound

nted to

y darling, and, of course, very easily explained; but, as your future husband, I have a righ

answer. He could only see her profile, dimly lighted by the wintry sky.

e is something in that letter which I wish yo

addressed her with a lover's tenderness. The day came when she had need of his compassion, and when he gave it freel

d you the le

ou pl

o Aurora. He fully expected at every sentence that she would interrupt him with some eag

urora, is

ectly

un away from the R

not tel

he month of June in the year

Bulstrode. This is my secret

ssing from your life, and you can not tell me, you

an n

loyd, you can n

onate torrent of angry words; but she rose from her chair, and, tottering toward him, fell upon her knees at his feet. No other action could have struck

this hour. Had I not been a coward, I should have anticipated this explanation. But I thought - I thought the occasion might never come, or that, wh

me; and the day that a secret, or the shadow of one, arises between us, must see us part for ever. Rise from your knees, Aurora; you are killing me with this shame and humiliation. Rise from

alf crouching attitude, her face buried in her hands, and on

, Talbot," she said, in a half s

Aurora Floyd, one more question, perhaps the last I ever may ask of you - Does you

do

man - tell me if he approved of your motive in leaving that school - if he approved of the manner in which your life was spent during that twel

years of my life I have done enough to break my father's heart - to brea

are no fit wife for an honorable man. I shut my mind against all foul suspicions; but the pa

she had been his partner at a ball. Their hands met with as icy a touch as the hands of two corpses. Ah! how much there was of death in that touch!

the threshold of the little

hat the disagreement between us has arisen from something of a trifling nature, and that my dismissal has come from y

t he should think that. It may spare him pain. Heaven knows

his ear. He thought of some frail young creature abandoned by her sister-nuns in a living tomb. He thought

of the stricken creature he had just left. We are apt to be horribly unjust in the hour of supreme trouble, and I fear that if any one had had the temerity to ask Talbot Bulstrode's opinion of Lucy Floyd just at that moment, the captain would have declared her to be a mass of frivolity and affectation. If you discover the worthlessness of the only woman you love upon earth, you will perhaps be apt to feel maliciously

ed; "what has happene

ed a letter from Cornwa

nto a hoarse whisper before

Sir John - is ill, pe

on. The door of the dining-room was open, and Talbot saw the gray head of Archibald Floyd dimly visible at the end of a long vista of lights, and silver, and glass, and evergreens. The old man had his nephews and nieces, and their children grouped about him, but the place a

bot's face, ghastly in the light of t

the express to-night, if I can get to town in time to catch the train. Pack my clothes and come after me. You can join me at the Pad

and silver from his pocket, an

e, I hope, sir?" said the

rom my mother - I- you'll fi

urrying from the room; but the ma

h a night as this," the servant said,

ning-room when Talbot crossed the hall. He wa

d," the old man said; "we can not

is life. He was leaving warm love and hope for cold resignation or icy despair. He went down the terrace-steps, across the trim garden-walks, and out into that wide, mysterious park. The long avenue was ghostly in the gray light, the tracery of the interlacing branches above his head making black shadows, that flickered to and fro upon the whitened ground beneath his feet. He walked for a quarter of a mile before he looked back at the lighted windows behind him. He did not turn until a wind in the avenue