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 remarks, and one among those not the least affected was Mary Kingley, now Mrs. Morgan. Only through tears could her joy and swelling gratitude find relief as the trying scenes of her life passed in rapid review before her, and her soul responded to the sentiments of the speaker, though she had yet but sipped of the full contents of the cup, whose varied mixture could scarcely admit of greater contrast than she had already experienced.

This was the first time she had visited the city since she left it, which was in accordance with a promise Rosalind had exacted the day of her marriage. It was the source of great pleasure to her—to them both, for the four weeks they had spent together so happily had united them ui bonds of the closest friendship. One thing alone detracted from its unalloyed enjoyment, which was her longing desire to visit her old home and see her mother. This could not be, since her father had abated none of his former harshness, and had absolutely forbidden her mother to see her on any condition whatever. Often in the silence of the night with none but God to witness, had she wrestled with this inward pain, and as resolutely shut it out when day brought its cares that none might know, especially James, the struggle it cost her.

Rosalind, who often visited and sympathized with her, knew more of it perhaps than any one else. In answer to a salutation with which she frequently greeted her, "As happy as ever?" she would say, "Oh yes! only one thing to mar my happiness," and then immediately turned the conversation.