The strongest wins, and truth and love are strength,

And you are happy : let her parents be.'

But Leolin cried out the more upon them

Insolent, brainless, heartless! heiress, wealth,

Their wealth, their heiress! wealth enough was theirs

For twenty matches. Were he lord of this,

Why twenty boys and girls should marry on it,

And forty blest ones bless him, and himself

Be wealthy still, ay wealthier. He believed

This filthy marriage-hindering Mammon

made

The harlot of the cities: nature crost
Was mother of the foul adulteries

That saturate soul with body. Name,

too! name,

Their ancient name! they might be proud; its worth

Was being Edith's. Ah how pale she had look'd

Darling, to-night! they must have rated

her

Beyond all tolerance. These old pheasantlords,

These partridge-breeders of a thousand

years,

Who had mildew'd in their thousands,

doing nothing

Since Egbert-why, the greater their disgrace!

Fall back upon a name ! rest, rot in that! Not keep it noble, make it nobler? fools, With such a vantage-ground for nobleness! He had known a man, a quintessence of

man,

The life of all-who madly loved-and he Thwarted by one of these old father-fools, Had rioted his life out, and made an end. He would not do it! her sweet face and faith

Held him from that: but he had powers, he knew it :

Back would he to his studies, make a name, Name, fortune too : the world should ring of him

To shame these mouldy Aylmers in their graves:

Chancellor, or what is greatest would he be

'O brother, I am grieved to learn your grief

Give me my fling, and let me say my say.'

At which, like one that sees his own excess,

And easily forgives it as his own, He laugh'd; and then was mute; but presently

Wept like a storm and honest Averill seeing

How low his brother's mood had fallen,

fetch'd

His richest beeswing from a binn reserved For banquets, praised the waning red, and told

The vintage-when this Aylmer came of age

Then drank and past it; till at length the two,

Tho' Leolin flamed and fell again, agreed That much allowance must be made for

men.

After an angry dream this kindlier glow Faded with morning, but his purpose held.

Yet once by night again the lovers met, A perilous meeting under the tall pines

Were living nerves to feel the rent; and burnt,

Now chafing at his own great self defied, Now striking on huge stumbling-blocks of

scorn

In babyisms, and dear diminutives
Scatter'd all over the vocabulary
Of such a love as like a chidden child,
After much wailing, hush'd itself at last
Hopeless of answer: then tho' Averill
wrote

And bad him with good heart sustain himself

All would be well-the lover heeded not, But passionately restless came and went, And rustling once at night about the place, There by a keeper shot at, slightly hurt, Raging return'd: nor was it well for her Kept to the garden now, and grove of

pines,

Watch'd even there; and one was set to watch

The watcher, and Sir Aylmer watch'd

them all,

Yet bitterer from his readings: once indeed,

Warm'd with his wines, or taking pride

in her,

She look'd so sweet, he kiss'd her tenderly Not knowing what possess'd him that one kiss

Was Leolin's one strong rival upon earth;
Seconded, for my lady follow'd suit,
Seem'd hope's returning rose: and then
ensued

A Martin's summer of his faded love,
Or ordeal by kindness; after this

He seldom crost his child without a sneer;
The mother flow'd in shallower acrimo-

nies :

Never one kindly smile, one kindly word: So that the gentle creature shut from all Her charitable use, and face to face

With twenty months of silence, slowly lost Nor greatly cared to lose, her hold on life. Last, some low fever ranging round to spy The weakness of a people or a house, Like flies that haunt a wound, or deer, or

men,

Or almost all that is, hurting the hurt— Save Christ as we believe him-found the

girl

And flung her down upon a couch of fire, Where careless of the household faces near, And crying upon the name of Leolin, She, and with her the race of Aylmer, past.

Star to star vibrates light: may soul to soul

Strike thro' a finer element of her own? So, from afar,-touch as at once? or

why

That night, that moment, when she named his name,

Did the keen shriek 'Yes love, yes, Edith,

yes,'

Shrill, till the comrade of his chambers

woke,

And came upon him half-arisen from sleep, With a weird bright eye, sweating and

trembling,

His hair as it were crackling into flames, His body half flung forward in pursuit, And his long arms stretch'd as to grasp a flyer:

Nor knew he wherefore he had made the

cry;

And being much befool'd and idioted
By the rough amity of the other, sank
As into sleep again. The second day,
My lady's Indian kinsman rushing in,
A breaker of the bitter news from home,
Found a dead man, a letter edged with

death

Beside him, and the dagger which himself