lost to every generous feeling as not to be smote with a sense of his own injustice and cruelty. Passion and conscience struggled in his breast, and averse to yield entirely to either, he sought to compromise between them. "Edith," he said with emotion, "your happiness is dear to me as my own; if it is to be attained by my relinquishing my right to your affections-Edith, is it so? Speak to me, I implore you!" And he grasped her hand, and gazed intensely on her face, on which deep blushes and deathly paleness alternately succeeded each other. "Tell me," cried Reginald, with increasing vehemence, "what it is you wish-what you would have me do? and you shall be gratified, even at the expense of my own happiness: more I cannot say." And he dropt the hand he held. "I have no wish, Reginald," said Edith, faintly, "but to see you such as you were in former happy days." "That can never be," interrupted he, impatiently. "I have told you I am changed. I have known suffering, and anguish-and-I can never be as I have If that is a crime in your eyes, then I am most been. culpable." "No, Reginald, you wrong me," cried Edith, in tender emotion. "Perhaps I wrong you; yet strange doubts will arise in spite of all-misgivings of—I know not what- -Reginald, I would fain tell you what I sometimes think-what I fear-but the dread of hurting you She stopped in extreme agitation, without daring to raise her eyes to Reginald, who remained silent, and evidently not less embarrassed than herself. The wished-for, yet dreaded eclaircissement seemed now on the point of taking place, and he feared alike to aid or impede it. Edith alone should be the destroyer of her own happiness. She might wrest from him the secret of his heart; she might tear aside the veil in which he had sought to shroud the image he adored; she might rush into the sanctuary of his inmost thoughts, after he had warned her that there was a point at which she must stop. But never-no, never-should his lips breathe that name to her. Never should his be the hand to rend away her delusion. Where, then, was the injustice he should be guilty of? Who, then, could dare to say he had wronged her?-Such was the sophistry with which the slave of passion strove to silence the small still voice of conscience, while he hung in agonising suspense on the word that should next issue from Edith's lips, as that which was to seal both their dooms; but the stroke was yet averted. Both were roused from this state of mute, but highwrought feeling, by the bustle which invariably attended Glenroy's approach, and presently the Chief entered, leaning on his servant, and shuffling along with great difficulty, attended by Mrs Macauley and Benbowie. In the agitation of her spirits, Edith felt unable to stand the scrutiny even of such common observers as these, and she was hastily retreating, when recalled, in an authoritative voice, by Glenroy, who never could bear to see any body leave the room while he was in it. "What's the meaning of this?" cried he in his loudest key; "going out of the room just at the moment I'm coming into it? Is that a proper behaviour? I really think you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Edith. Is that the way you welcome your old father to the use of his feet?" "O, papa! said Edith, taking his hand, "how can you doubt "How can I doubt? What am I to doubt?" in terrupted Glenroy, peevishly. "I'm for none of your doubts I hate doubts. I desire I may never see or hear of doubts, for I despise them. I never doubt-I never did doubt—and never will doubt, for I hate all doubtful characters. So come you here, Reginald, and sit by me, for I know there's nothing doubtful about you-all's open and above-board with you.-Now, Mrs Macauley, I desire you to hold your tongue for the rest of this evening; haven't I been deaved with it the whole of this day, and do you think I'm going to submit to be preached to by you any longer? I'll do no such thing," stamping his stick. "Well but, Glenroy, as sure as death I'm not speaking." "Not speaking! you never give over speaking-your tongue never lies! but I'm for no speaking at present; so hold your tongue, and order the coffee, and go and see what's keeping Lady Elizabeth and the rest of them-I'm waiting for them-I don't understand it. I must know what's the meaning of this; for I'll not suffer either my own character, or the character of my house, to be aspersed-however, I shall have it all cleared up before this night is over, and unless they choose to stay to your marriage "I beg-I-I entreat, Glenroy-I," stammered Reginald, violently agitated. 66 "Ay, ay, I understand what you would say," interrupted Glenroy, "and you shall have every thing your own way, Reginald; you know you're as much master here as I am, and more too, for I'm grown a perfect cipher in my own house now-I've no more authority than if it didn't belong to me. But there's one thing I'm determined upon, and that is, that you shall have your own way, Reginald, and be married before you're a month older, so don't say another word about it-there has been a great deal too much talking II. already. I dare say it's just that creature Molly Macauley's long tongue that has put every thing wrong -she really ought to have her mouth stitched up!" M Chapter tj. The thunder of my cannon shall be heard- King John. EANWHILE Mrs Macauley, anxious to do her part, was labouring away to keep the peace between Glenroy and his lady. As the first object of her life was the favour of the Chief, so she could not conceive that it was a thing to be lightly esteemed by any body else, much less by his own wedded wife. She therefore gladly availed herself of the errand she had been despatched upon, to apprise Lady Elizabeth, at the same time, how greatly Glenroy was distressed at the thoughts of her departure. A piece of information which she had no doubt would at once annihilate the whole scheme, and settle her at Glenroy for as long a time as it should be her lord's pleasure that she should remain. But all Mrs Macauley's eloquence failed in producing any effect on her ladyship's feelings. "Oh, my lady!" said she, "you must not speak to Glenroy of going away, for 'deed he's so hospitable, and so used to be humoured, and to get everything his own way (and that's no more than what he ought to get), that if he's crossed by your ladyship, he'll be neither to hold nor to bind, good man that he is! "You don't mean to say, I am in the power of a madman, and that I can't get away?" said her ladyship, in some alarm. "Oh no! not at all; there will nothing happen to you, if you'll just be so good as let Glenroy take his own way, and be discreet to him-and if he shall say, black's white, if your ladyship would just please to say the same and then, may be if you would be so good as to offer to stay to please him, he would then be ready to let you go. "It is excessively troublesome," said her ladyship; "really quite childish in Glenroy.' “'Deed, and it's a very odd fancy that's come on him," said the simple Mrs Macauley: "and may be he is now and then just a little of what you would call not just so clever and sensible as he used to be; but then, you know, that makes it all the easier for your ladyship to agree with him.” 66 Certainly," said her ladyship, "when a man is fairly in his dotage, he must be treated like a child; and I shall make a point of seeing him, and doing all I possibly can to soothe and gratify him, without giving way to his whims." And with this laudable purpose in view, her ladyship at length descended to the drawing-room. But in the interval, Glenroy had got a new light on the subject; for Reginald, upon being made acquainted with the cause of his disturbance, had given a decided opinion in favour of the ladies being allowed to take their departure; and the point was settled by his saying —and he tried to say it coolly and steadily-that if they remained, he should take the opportunity of Glenroy having such agreeable company with him, to pass a few days at Dunshiera. "Well, then, let them go," cried the Chief, and at that moment his lady entered, fully prepared to be pressed to stay. They met with mutual embarrassment, for the fear of losing Reginald by any indiscreet word restrained Glenroy from what he called speaking his |