She stood beside him, and rising, he placed a chair for her in perfect silence.

Mary's heart ached, as she noted the marble paleness which overspread her cousin's cheek.

Mr.Stewart folded his arms across his chest, and said in a low, stern, yet mournful tone: "Florence, I could not have believed that you would have deceived me, as you have silently done." Mournfully Florence looked for a moment on Mary's face, yet there was no reproach in her glance; it seemed but to say--"You have wakened me from my dream of happiness." She lifted proudly her head, and fixed her dark eye full on her lover.
"Explain yourself, Mr.Stewart; I have a right to know with what I am charged, though I almost scorn to refute that of deceit." "Not a week since, Florence, you heard me avow my dislike of the tenets and practises of the Romish Church.

I said then, as now, that no strong-minded, intelligent woman of the present age could consult the page of history and then say that she conscientiously believed its doctrines to be pure and scriptural, or its practises in accordance with the teachings of our Saviour.

You tacitly concurred in my opinions.