WYLDER'S HJlJVD. 251 communicated to those who love us best. These terrors and dubitations are infections. Other spiritual troubles, too, there are; and 1 suppose our good Vicar was not ex- empt from them any more than other Christians. The Vicar, with his little boy, Fairy, by the hand, used twice, at least, in the week to make, sometimes an hour's, sometimes only half an hour's, visit at Redman's Farm. Poor Rachel Lake made old Tamar sit at her worsteds in the window of the little drawing-room while these conver- sations proceeded. The young lady was so intelligent that William Wylder was obliged to exert himself in contro- versy with her eloquent despair; and this combat with the doubts and terrors of a mind of much more than ordinary vigor and resource, though altogether feminine, compell- ed him to bestir himself, and so, for the time, found him entire occupation; and thus memory and forecast, and sus- pense, superseded, for the moment, by absorbing mental action. Rachel's position had not been altered by her brother's marriage. Dorcas had urged her earnestly to give up Redman's Farm, and take up her abode permanently at Brandon. This kindness, however, she declined. She was grateful, but no, nothing could move her. The truth was, she recoiled from it with a species of horror. The marriage had been, after all, as great a surprise to Rachel as to any of the Gylingden gossips. Dorcas, knowing how Rachel thought upon it, had grown reserved and impenetrable upon the subject; indeed, at one time, I think, she had half made up her mind to fight the old battle over again and resolutely exorcise this fatal passion. She had certainly mystified Rachel, perhaps was mystify- ing herself. One evening Stanley Lake stood at Rachel's door. "I was just thinking, dear Radie," he said in his sweet