So I go away at last, half heart-broken. I remember,
now, how cold and brief his letters from India always seemed: but then
he need to excuse himself to me on account of the hurry of business: and
he seldom finished his letter without saying that he looked joyfully
forward to our meeting. It was very cruel of him to deceive me!"
Arthur Lovell was a sorry comforter. From the first he had tried in vain
to like Henry Dunbar. Since that strange scene in Portland Place, he had
suspected the banker of a foul and treacherous murder,--that worst and
darkest crime, which for ever separates a man from the sympathy of his
fellow-men, and brands him as an accursed and abhorred creature, beyond
the pale of human compassion. Ah, how blessed is that Divine and
illimitable compassion which can find pity for those whom sinful man
rejects!
CHAPTER XX.
NEW HOPES MAY BLOOM.
Jocelyn's Rock was ten miles from Maudesley Abbey, and only one mile
from the town of Shorncliffe. It was a noble place, and had been in the
possession of the same family ever since the days of the Plantagenets.
The house stood upon a rocky cliff, beneath which rushed a cascade that
leapt from crag to crag, and fell into the bosom of a deep stream, that
formed an arm of the river Avon.
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