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270 by his vile machinations, that are as insidious and as penetrating as the musk-rat's odour. But, alas! such was not to be. The inevitable must, must have its way. We lived on in love that was to be rudely cast aside; we lived in a holy, sincere trust in one another, that must be rent in twain: we lived, we joyed, we breathed, as if we were one being, one existence, one life, and one soul. Yet all this was to be broken in shreds, all was to be crushed to the veriest atoms, and these atoms the veriest concentration of misery. How long we lived in this Elysium of quiet joy: how long we continued this commune of souls; how long we remained as it were one being, in harmony of thought, in harmony of action, and in harmony of desire, I know not. Day seemed to blend into day, week seemed to blend into week, month into month, and year into year, and still we continued to love and to be loved by all around. The Recorder and his wife gave us every encouragement. I felt that we must be united; I felt that I had gained the love, the true,