alone all over the world, as he had intended.  At first Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton were somewhat surprised at this decision, but knowing the nature of their son, began to fancy that a certain Miss Manvers had something to do with it, the sister of Lord Delmont, the Earl St. Eval’s most intimate friend, and the chosen friend of Mary Greville during her residence at Monte Rosa.  In Lord Delmont’s will he had left the Earl guardian of his sister during the year that intervened before her coming of age, an office which rendered St. Eval still more intimate with the family.  On his way to Geneva he had heard from Miss Manvers of her mother’s death, and that she was residing with an English family on the banks of the Lake.  The information that her brother’s friends, and indeed her own, with his wife and family, intended spending some little time at Geneva, was a source of so much pleasure, that after a little hesitation she accepted the earnest invitation of both the Earl and his lady, and gladly and gratefully consented to reside with them during their stay in Switzerland, and then accompany them on their intended tour.

The strong affection Percy bore his brother rendered him long unable to regain his usual mirth and flow of spirits, and he found the conversation of Louisa Manvers even more pleasing than ever.  Mary had made her perfectly acquainted with Herbert, and therefore, though she had never seen him, she was well enabled to enter into the deep affliction the loss of his betrothed must have occasioned him.  Percy could speak to her as often as he pleased of his brother and Mary, and ever found sympathy and interest attached to the subject.  Thus the idea of travelling alone, when his sister’s family offered such attractions, became absolutely irksome to him, and he was pleased to see that his plan of joining them was not disagreeable to Miss Manvers.  Mr. Hamilton sent his unqualified approval of Percy’s intentions, and Herbert also wrote sufficiently of himself to satisfy the anxious affection of his brother.

There was only one disappointing clause in Percy’s plans, and he regretted it himself, and even hinted that if his sister still very much wished it, he would give up his intention, and return home in time to be present, as he had promised, at her wedding.  He wrote in his usual affectionate strain both to Emmeline and Myrvin, but neither was selfish enough to wish such a sacrifice.

At Herbert’s earnest entreaty, the marriage of his sister was, however, fixed rather earlier than she had intended.  It was not, he said, as if their marriage was to be like Caroline’s, the signal for a long course of gaiety and pleasure; that Emmeline had always determined on only her own family being present, and everything would be so quiet, he was sure there could be no necessity for a longer postponement.

“My Mary wished to have beheld your union,” his lip trembled as he spoke; “had not her illness so rapidly increased she wished to have been present, and could she now speak her wishes, it would be to bid you be happy—­no longer to defer your union for her sake.  Do not defer it, dear Emmeline,” he added, in a somewhat sadder tone, “we know not the events of an hour, and wherefore should we delay? it will be such joy to me to unite my friend and my sister, to pour forth on their love the blessing of the Lord.”