turned pale as she added, "then we shall probably never see him again."

"Hoot! what's the lassie thinking about; ye'll see him often eneuch, I'se warrant. It's lang ere the diel dies at the dike side--no that I would sae ony thing disrespecfu' o' his Lordship, wha's behaved sae vara genteel to me; but only I would na wish that you should just be setting yere fancy on a chiel that's no to ride the water on, I'm feared."

"What puts it into your head, my dear Alpinia, that I have set my fancy upon him, as you call it ?"

"I may be wrang; it's no sae easy to say, forby that it may be ye dinna weel ken what ye would be at yoursel; but I'm thinking ye forgathered owr muckle wi him at the Ha', no to be unco taen up wi him, that's for certain."

"I wonder, dear Alpinia, you allow so many fancies to enter your brain; but at all events, you know we are going into retirement for ever, and therefore there is little chance of our meeting him again. As soon as Frances's marriage is over, we take our departure for Somersetshire; and my

poor uncle's affairs are, I fear, hopeless"—(her eyes filled with tears as she spoke).

"You know

it is not the loss of the fortune I lament, Alpinia; it is to see my uncle's spirit broken down, and sinking beneath the insolence of that purse-proud Duke of Godolphin. But how do you know, Alpinia, that Lord Mowbray is gone from town?"

"By a written line o' his ain haund;—here it is," and feeling in her pocket she produced the note which was as follows.

"My dear Miss Macalpine, some unexpected business calls me to Mowbray Castle. If I should not be able to pay my respects to the General before my departure, I beg you to make my compliments and regrets at not seeing him to take my leave, acceptable to himself and to Lady Emily, &c. &c.

"MOWBRAY.'

"So he is gone!" said Lady Emily, looking paler than before; " and I have never seen him since the night of the Opera, soon after we came to town!"

Miss Macalpine shook her head. " Woes me, but I fear there's something no just right in that young Lord. I canna tell what na thing it is ails

him; but yon Rosalinda and he seem to hae been acquaint lang since syne, and thae Italians are no canny-fearfu' like bodies;

a grip o' a man they never let go.

whan they get

Ye suld na be thinking o' him, Lady Emily; for every time I hae remarked him weel whan ony body has spoken o' that Rosalinda, a kind o' cauld sweat, like the dead thraw, has stood on his brow, and that's a sure sign there's something wrang. Dinna let him wile the heart out o' your breast-remember there's as gude fish in the sea as ever came out o't, and my advice till ye is, no to fash mair about him."

"I! dear Alpinia, not I—what right have I to think about him? he never thought of me."

"Oh, for the matter of that, as the auld song says

'Luve will venture in whar it daure na weel be seen, Luve will venture in whar reason ance has been.'

And then, that same Luve will not give place to reason's sel'. Ance in, it's no' so easy to drive him

awa'-it's a waur job, may be nor ye think o', my

puir lassie❞—and Miss Macalpine sighed a heart's sigh. "Now take my counsel; don't be letting

the canker o' care feed on your heart's core— your cheeks are no' the rosy cheeks they used to be; and the sparkle is out o' your ee, and

"Now, do not be fancying all sorts of things, Alpinia, that are not true; how can any body look well in the hurry of a London life? and besides, should I not be more hard-hearted than a stone if I could see my dear uncle turned out of his home-the home he loves so well, to be a wanderer, a sort of outcast, and not feel for him."

"That's true; my vera heart's sore, thinking o't. Oh! if he could only come and stay a while wi' me at Heatherden! it would be a proud day to me to see him there."

"Under other circumstances, I doubt not my uncle would be delighted to become your guest; but when the heart is crushed, and the prospects of life darkened as his are, there is nothing but an independent situation, however humble, which can afford repose or refuge to a noble mind."

"And you, Lady Emily, are determined, I hear, not to accept Lady Frances's invitation, though she really wishes to have ye.”

"What, and leave my uncle? how could you suppose such a thing?"

"I never did enterteen sic na thought: I knew well eneugh that ye would never forsake him."

“There, Alpinia, you did me but justice; besides, I have no merit in this determination, for I love no body so much; at least"-(and she blushed and hesitated, for, to the shadow of a shade, Lady Emily always spoke the truth)" at least I love no one better, nor can I ever-in another way, perhaps, but in no way with more true devotion of heart and soul."

Here a note arrived :

"From Mrs. Neville," said Lady Emily, opening, and reading it." She wants me to go to Lady Orwell's this evening, but I shall not accept her proposal; for to-morrow is the grand fête which Prince Levenstein gives at Roehampton, which I own I should like to see, as it is the first thing of the kind, and may perhaps be the last at which I shall ever be present; so I would not leave my uncle for two nights together. I shall say nothing, therefore, to him about it, else he will order me to go, and get Lady Glassington to come and make up his card-party."

"That's weel thought; but are ye sure ye