CHAP. I. CONVALESCENCE. The soul, my lord, is fashioned like the lyre- A momentary lustre; made her pulse Concealment, making every glance and motion, Demetria, by James A. Hillhouse. GEOFFREY was nearly well when he woke next morning;-as nearly well as possible. He had not lost much blood. The fever had somewhat reduced him; but he soon flung off the lassitude which it left behind, and began to mend, for he had an excellent constitution. His appetite was prodigious. The jellies, cates, soups, what not-the delicacies with which he was supplied, seemed to go at once into his veins, and renew him. He wanted more and ever more-like the daughters of the horseleech. But it was not safe to allow him to "minister to himself." The doctor was obliged to check the gratification of his large appetite. It might be dan gerous, he said, to let him recover strength too fast. In vain he pled for some remission of De Courval's rules. Alice was inexorable. Lovell would have yielded, but she was firm. The doctor had spoken so plainly, that obedience was compulsory. His entreaties were useless. She only smiled-and refused concession. She!-For Alice was once more by his bed. Early in the morning old Grace had brought her a message from Sir Hervé. Her uncle wished to speak with her in his closet. As soon as she was dressed, she went. "Well, little pet," he said, fondly patting her soft and peachy cheek; "how is your patient this morning? You are long in curing him. You turned Master North out of doors in a few days." She felt abashed, and did not at first know what to say. But, conscious of the necessity of concealing her real feelings, "I'm quite tired of nursing him," she said, in a moment. "He will not mend. I have done my best, and so has De Courval; but he is stubborn to both of us. I have not been near him yet to-day; but I do not expect to find him better than he was yesterday She paused a moment, and then, with a bright smile, "Dear uncle!" she exclaimed-"how gray you're getting. Hold still, now. Let me pluck out this white hair. Oh, such a silver one !"-And she pulled out one of his grizzled locks, and held it up in her white fingers before him in triumph. "There!" she cried, kissing him; "if a man had done that, now,— what a storm would have been raised. Flashing eyes -drawn swords-unbearable words-blows-wounds -death-dear! dear!-and when I do it, you put your arm round me, and kiss me. There's another. Let me have it. Only this one. I'll pat your head as I pull it, so that you'll not notice the sting. Ha!—ha!” and she laughed gaily, as she made the veteran shake his head, and then rub it, to get rid of the effect of her audacity. He kissed her fondly. "Dear Alice!" he said. Then reverting to the former subject, "Why, I thought Norval was better yesterday," he exclaimed. "Some one said so. I saw him at noon. But I suppose you were with him after that." She thought—she felt that he suspected something, from the manner in which he spoke that his keen eyes watched her. She did not look in his face as she answered, but, mustering all her woman's tact, she said, as carelessly as she could,— "No. I do not think I did. I was with Marion Stanton a good deal yesterday. But Grace went several times to see how he progressed. I took care to send her." And if her voice faltered, it was so slightly, that he did not remark it. In fact, he was deceived. "Pooh!" he thought; "Grace is an old fool-there's nothing here! Perhaps he loves; but it is not reciprocal. No-no! She is too proud to love him! There can be no danger in the business, so far as she is concerned" I need not say that De Léon did not know the sex. "It is not enough to send Grace," he said. "Do not send her any more. After all, she is only a servant, and we ought to be kind to him ourselves, for he saved my life, you know. Go yourself, Alice, dear. If his progress is a little slow, the more need for your care. Besides I want you to be kind to |