and succeeded in his seeking; how she was satisfied that he was sincere in his professions; and how she had got the ounces from her father to make a love-token, to give in exchange for Walter’s.  All which Paul listened to with deep attention, now and then a faint smile passing over his delicate face, and followed by the old pensive expression which was peculiar to one so deeply imbued with the conviction that he was an organism in nature’s plan, acted upon to fulfil a fate of which he could know nothing.

“And so the powers work,” said he, as he looked in the hopeful face of his friend.  “You are now happy, Rachel, because you believe what Walter has said to you, and you have no power over your belief.  But,” he continued, after a moment or two’s silence, “I may have power over you, but not over myself.  Walter Grierson has told you a falsehood, and his motive for it is adequate to his nature.  Since he gave me the order for the locket, he has learnt that you are to inherit the whole fortune of your father, on the condition that you are to marry him; and his love for Agnes has been overborne by another feeling—­the desire to possess your wealth.  Neither the one nor the other of these feelings could he manufacture, or even modify, any more than he could charm the winds into silence, or send Jove’s bolt back to its thunder-cloud; and now, look you, his game is this:  if you succeed to the money, he will marry without loving you; if not, he will marry the woman he loves—­Agnes Ainslie.”

“You alarm me, Paul,” said she, involuntarily holding forth her arms, as if she would have stopped his speech.

“And you cannot help your alarm,” said he calmly; “neither can I help not being alarmed by your alarm.”

“Oh, you trifle with my feelings,” she cried, with a kind of wail.  “What have all these strange thoughts to do with this situation in which I am placed?  Even though all things are pre-ordained, neither of us can be absolved from doing our duty to God and ourselves.”

“Absolved!” echoed Paul.  “Why, Rachel, look you, we are forced to do it, or not to do it, precisely as the motive culminates into action, but we are not sensible of the compulsion; and so am I under the necessity to tell you that Walter Grierson is playing false with you, according to the inexorable law of his nature.  It is not an hour yet since Agnes Ainslie called here with some old trinkets, and requested me to make a ring out of them; nor was I left without the means of understanding that it was to be given in exchange for the locket.”

“Is it possible?” cried she.  “And can it be that I am deceived, and that secret powers are working my ruin?”