against witchcraft. I shall not attempt to tell you how Mr. Morton will look when he gives the bride away, or how Lady Glengarry "I was interrupted yesterday by a visit from James. He is prevented from being present at the wedding by some important business at North Ashurst. He talks of going to see you on his way there; says you are out of health. Can that be true? I was selfishly depending on your invariable health and spirits to help me out of a state of depression which I feel coming on. When Frank and Alice are gone to the Continent and Lady Geraldine is with Lady Glengarry, I should naturally turn to my quietest home-with Margaret Hastings at Carleton. I thought if my forebodings were groundless, we might be happy awhile together, and minister to our old friend, and restore her to health. If my forebodings were true—where on earth should I hide my head from the cowardly and the mocking but with my heart's sister, Margaret? But if you are ill, I must not risk this trial to your nerves. I must seek an abode elsewhere. François will accompany me— -and Maddox. If I feel better, you will see me a few days after the marriage. I must see you, my dear girl, and Miss Price too; though it would be unsafe to stay under the circumstances. Like the sailor bound on a dangerous and unknown voyage, who fears he may never return, I would fain take a last look at all those I love while yet close enough to the land to see their faces and hear their loving voices. Do not wait until I arrive at Carleton-I may not be able to go; but write and tell me how you are, and that you always love your affectionate friend, "ARUNDEL." With blanched cheek, compressed lips, and eyes closed, as if to shut out some dreadful object, poor Margaret remained a long time motionless. The sunny air, the hum of bees, the distant music of the marriage bells-the joy in others' happiness, the pity for another's pain—all small, all great things that had soothed her troubled mind when she read those other letters, had no power to soothe her now. This grief was her own heart's grief-this pang was her secret and peculiar suffering, that no stranger meddled with, that no earthly power could relieve. Could she have put into words what passed within her then, they would have resembled these: "Ah me, alas! pain ever, ever, for ever!' Awhile since those words came softly to my memory—now they are written on my heart in fire. Poor, weak, selfish heart! Quick! quick! Beat away the short time allowed thee for throbbing with thy own sorrow. The hour draws nigh when thou must suffer and be strong-ay, and be silent, too. Up, up, heart of mine! The battle-day is at hand once more! Courage. Fais ce que tu dois advienne que pourra. It is for thy self-elected lord thou must do and bear! Be true to thy honourable love, and thou wilt go bravely through the fight, and preserve him in safety for the world's blessing and thy own." She stood up-she opened her eyes, but closed them again quickly, for they had looked right on the spot by the window where so many years ago she had been frightened by the apparition of that beautiful face. The self-same ivy-wreath seemed to be waving against the glass, and the face-yesthe same loved, melancholy face was gazing in on her. must not indulge these fancies," she said aloud, as she passed her hand over her eyes. "I must do something. Stay! They are all coming-perhaps to-day. And I am housekeeper. There! go and do small duties, and forget great ones awhile.” "I CHAPTER V. JAMES HASTINGS. "He who hath never warred with misery, The strength and forces of his worthiness." DANIEL. ; MARGARET never considered herself in the light of a heroine therefore she gave her orders about dinners and bedrooms for Lady Geraldine and her servants, and Mr. Raby and his servants, without being at all aware that such things were undignified, and out of keeping with great griefs and high aims. She had a feminine talent for arranging and ruling a domestic establishment, and it was now her duty, as housekeeper, to exercise this talent in Carleton Castle. I may as well explain how it happened that my Aunt Margaret Hastings, became housekeeper there, in her twentyfourth year. After the painful death of the sixth earl, Audrey declared that her nerves were "so shook" that it was morally impossible for her to live in that great dreary place any longer; and Joseph Rosemary, taking advantage of the "shook" state of her nerves, persuaded her to marry him, and live in a cosy, cheerful little house in the village of Carleton, which their united savings kept up in what the neighbours called a very genteel style. The young earl was at no loss for a housekeeper. He had often heard his mother say, that an educated gentlewoman should take charge of such a house as Carleton Castle; and telling his steward that he should engage a housekeeper himself, he at once wrote to Miss Price, and with affectionate delicacy requested her acceptance of the office, with two hundred a year as a salary. The old lady thanked her “dear child" for his thoughtfulness and generosity, and accepted the office. She was She was "still young enough to discharge most of its duties herself," she said; "and Margaret Hastings would help her with the rest." After a year or two, Miss Price gave up the hope of seeing Margaret happily married; and knowing that she had no means of support but the allowance made her by her brothers, or the hospitality of her friends and relations, she, like a kind and prudent friend, began to think about Margaret's independence, in a monetary sense-a thing which, truth to tell, had not troubled Margaret herself much. "My dear," she said one day, "have you thought about your future income ?" "No. What should I think about it ?" "You must think about earning it. You can't live with a married brother or sister." "Oh, no; I shall live with James." "He will marry." "I don't think he will." "You must, nevertheless, make yourself independent by doing something for money. It is the best thing for an unmarried woman.' "I don't know enough for a governess." "And I know too much to let you be one." "What must I do then?" "How would you like to be my assistant here while I live, and succeed me?" Margaret took her old friend's hand and kissed it, while one of her deep blushes spread over her face and neck; but she did not speak. Miss Price paused awhile, and said: "I think you love this place, and its sweet and sorrowful memories, and you would not like to leave it." "I should never feel at home anywhere else, now," replied Margaret, distinctly. "I am useful to you always, and I may be useful again to others whom we love-though may God forbid that!" They understood each other, and no more was said on the matter, until Miss Price one day showed her young friend a letter from Lord Carleton, or as they still sometimes called him, Frank, in which he assured them both that he and his future wife, Lady Alice Trevor, would like their dear friend Margaret Hastings to succeed to the office of housekeeper at Carleton, if she really desired to do so, which they thought "a most hermit-like desire in so charming a person," who "might make a good match if she did not so heartily despise all manner of men." Margaret smiled as she folded the letter and returned it to Miss Price. "How good you are," she said, kissing her. "So that matter is settled; and now I am to be an independent woman. I suppose I am naturally careless, for the idea of being poor never troubled me. Don't you remember Jeremy Taylor says, speaking of the folly of being a slave to the fear of poverty, 'If we want meat till we die, then we die of that disease, and there are many worse than an atrophy, or consumption.' However, he never tried it himself. To think that I may one day be the housekeeper here !-How strange it seems! I remember so well when I was a child being angry with dear Lady Carleton for wishing you were housekeeper in Mrs. Fenton's place; until she explained to me what her notions of a proper housekeeper for such a castle were. We hover about our fate, and become familiar with it long before it comes to take possession of us." From that time Miss Price's health declined visibly, and Margaret was the real housekeeper at the castle, and managed the servants well. She walked through the whole suite of Mr. Raby's apartments, carefully examining everything-the breakfast and dining-room, the small withdrawing-room, and the two rooms appropriated to Maddox and François. These would soon be in order. The workmen had just completed the small spiral staircase which she had ordered to be made as a communication between these rooms and the new conservatory. She stepped down the stairs into the midst of the blossoming exotics, and stood in front of the pretty new fountain there, which Rosemary had set playing, for the first time, in honour of the day. The effect of the coup d'œil, as she looked down the flowering arcade terminating in the graceful arch of the doorway leading to the oratory of the oak parlour was so beautiful, that Margaret remained motionless with admiration for some minutes. Then she examined the mosaic pavement and the different plants as she proceeded slowly towards the oratory. She had, for the time, forgotten her impending troubles. With the happy elasticity of youth her heart was gladdened by the sight of the sunshine and the beautiful flowers. "They will all be pleased with this," she said to herself. "Arundel will be delighted; I am so glad I thought of that |