surgeon assures us, that in a few days he will be able to go about as usual. We have every possible cause for thankfulness; and I do intreat, my dearest and best, that you will yield to my wishes, and take care of yourself, in order that we may all meet in comfort shortly."

Lady Emily was compelled to yield to this tender solicitude, not only from motives of obedience, but real illness; and during some days, the General had little else to do than pass from the chamber of one of the invalids to the other, and comfort them by the favourable accounts which he mutually conveyed. To each he softened the sufferings of the other: the kind words of Lady Emily, and her undisguised solicitude, thus faithfully reported to Lord Mowbray, proved greater emollients to soothe pain, than any which the healing art could afford.

So far all was satisfactory; but the unavoidable tête-à-têtes of Colonel Pennington and General Montgomery were of a distressing nature; the coldness of friends is ice itself; the heart is cut by its keen severity. Colonel

Pennington sometimes groaned audibly, and continued to pace up and down the room like a troubled ghost; then he would suddenly stop and say abruptly :—

"Well, and now matters have been brought to a climax, and that Lord Mowbray will, in all probability, propose for Lady Emily—what will you do? what can you do? circumstanced as you are?" and laying a strong emphasis on the latter words.

"It is time enough, my good Pennington—it is time enough to think of how I shall act, when that circumstance takes place should it take place! The first thing to be thought of, is the recovery of my niece; the next, her immediate removal home to the farm-house."

"What! and so you really mean to take her away, and deprive her of the last chance she has of ever getting well settled? truly you are unaccountable.—Yet perhaps you may just as well do so. Lord Mowbray is a man who values the nobility of his descent, and its unsullied honour too highly, too marry the niece of one enveloped in a mystery which"

"Pennington, I can bear a great deal from a person whose character I value so highly as I do yours; but there are limits beyond which no man can endure to be taunted even by his best friend. We must meet no more, in order to avoid the recurrence of this irritation; or meeting, we must cease altogether to converse, till such time as you have learned to repress your feelings, and to be silent on this subject."

Having thus spoken, he was about to leave the room, when Colonel Pennington caught hold of his hand, and in the loud voice of a great schoolboy who tries to repress the emotion which swelled to tears, he cried-" Well, well, Montgomery, you will be the death of me at last. I cannot bear it—I cannot indeed-to know that your fame is blighted, your prospects gone.-I shall quit England; I shall go away where I can never behold you more. I will not see the end of this."

And he ceased speaking from being nearly suffocated by agitation.

The General grasped his hand affectionately, and replied: "Do you think that I suffer

less? no, no; the silent grief which preys upon me, is of a far more desperate kind; lament and commiserate, but do not blame me." So saying, he walked away, and his friend suffered him to depart.

A few more days saw the invalids restored to health, and once more reunited; Lady Emily paler than usual indeed, and still more aërial, her light step somewhat measured and trembling, as she leaned on her uncle for support; but still there was an alacrity in the manner in which she moved to meet the extended hand of Lord Mowbray, whose eyes sparkled from under their long-fringed lids, whilst with an ill-subdued transport he pressed that hand to his lips and to his heart, but could not utter a word.

Lady Emily was the first to say, "Thank God!" and through the soft tears she did not attempt to restrain, she smiled delightedly, as she inquired how he felt, and when he should be able to use his arm, which at present was suspended in a sling.

"How I feel? My dear Lady Emily, I trust my friends the General and Colonel Pen

nington can answer how I feel; though all I feel," he whispered in her ear, "no one perhaps can know ;" and then he changed colour, fearing lest he had said too much; for, though he sought for, and found encouragement in Lady Emily's gentle expression of solicitude, and that it was impossible he should mistake the favourable nature of the answer which he read in her timid, tender glance, he ascribed (so ingenious is the nature of love in tormenting itself) these favourable symptoms to gratitude alone.

The conversation soon became more general, and relieved him from the embarrassment which otherwise would have become painful in the extreme. The party reverted to the transactions of the late eventful night, and Colonel Pennington expressed his hope that Lord Mowbray would never rest satisfied till he discovered the perpetrators of the deed.

"One thing I implore," cried Lady Emily. "It is, that none of you will endanger your own safety in such discovery:" and her eyes unconsciously rested upon Lord Mowbray with the tenderest look of concern.