"for my own part, he was the only chilling thing I encountered this morning at Montgomery Hall."

Dancing commenced, and Lady Emily wondered why she did not find as much delight in the amusement as she had expected. She blamed the music-the heat of the room-her partner (who, if not a dancer of the first excellence, at least was not negligent or self-engrossed,)—she blamed, in short, every thing but the true cause. She sat down after the first quadrille, and felt happier when General Montgomery proposed returning home, than she had even felt in the prospect of the ball. Such is pleasure! nine times out of ten, such is pleasure!

Lady Frances, however, was in high spirits, and though a little dissatisfied at leaving the scene so soon, was, on the whole, content with the progress made during the evening, in an affair which she fancied affected her heart. Again, in returning, as in setting out, Lady Frances was the gayest of the two sisters; a circumstance so unusual, that General Montgomery rallied Lady Emily on the subject, and she was obliged to plead a bad headache as an excuse for her apparent silence and want of spirits.

CHAPTER III.

In all losses I would have a double prospect; I would consider what I have lost, and I would have regard to what I have left. It may be in my loss I may find a benefit. I may be rid with it of a trouble, a snare, or a danger. OWEN FELTHAM.

On the morrow, when General Montgomery left his room, a note was put into his hands. It was from Lord Mowbray, thanking him for his kind hospitality, and alleging urgent business (which, however, he would not allow to interfere with his accompanying the family to Mrs. Fitzhammond's the preceding day) as the reason of his sudden departure. He had set off at a very early hour, before any of the party were risen.

The note was read at the breakfast-table, and Lord Mowbray's departure would have given

rise to expressions of general regret at any other moment; but the different individuals had so much to say and to remark upon the subject of the last night's amusements, that the announcement made little impression apparently, beyond a transient pause in the conversation, and an exclamation from Colonel Pennington, of "Pooh! pooh! what business can a man have who never does any thing? All nonsense!"

But Lord Mowbray was gone; and as it has been said, the company were too much engaged to speculate upon the cause.

As Miss Macalpine, however, paced to and fro on the terrace with Colonel Pennington, in the course of the morning, she referred to the subject, saying

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Perhaps it's just as weel, after a', that the young Lord should hae ta'en himsel' aff."

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Why?" said the Colonel; "he'll do no good anywhere else."

"He was doing na gude here, Colonel!" said she significantly.

"Ah! how do ye mean ?"

"Colonel, ye're an auld and discreet friend.

Dinna ye think our Leddie was beginning to tak'

to him? I minded her last night, when he went away so suddenly from Mrs. Fitzhammond's; and this morning, when the General was reading the note, did ye mind those sweet eyes o' her's, Colonel ?"

"No-I was minding my breakfast."

"But do you think-for I fear no'-do you think, Colonel, that Lord Mowbray is just a man to sit down content by the ingleside wi' a wife for the rest o' his days? He's a queer chap yon; there's no making him out rightly."

"It's not easy," said Colonel Pennington; "for he is mighty mysterious. I do not like mysteries; and yet, as I loved the late Lord Mowbray, so do I love this; but his conduct is something that passes reason. Urgent business indeed! What urgent business can he have to take him away in such a deuce of a hurry?— all nonsense! he lives by chance, and does not know his own mind from one day to another."

"It's like eneugh," rejoined Miss Macalpine; "and for the sake o' our Leddie Emily I am just as well pleased he 's awa', for he might hae wiled her heart out o' her breast, and then hae

thought no more o' it or o' her. You men, Colonel, can do thae things whiles !"

Colonel Pennington heaved one of his heavy groans, but made no reply; and they continued walking the terrace in silence till interrupted by Lady Emily, who came flying towards them, and with an expression of joy on her face very unlike the look it had worn in the morning, exclaimed, "Oh, I am so happy, dear Alpinia! so happy, dear Colonel Pennington! the day is fixed for Rose's marriage; the parents have made up their differences, and every thing wears a smiling aspect at the Delvins' cottage. I am so happy!"

And Lady Emily was happy: but it was by participation in the promised happiness of others. In her own heart, another feeling would have prevailed, had it not been overmastered by this excitement of the moment; and already, though unconscious of it herself, the cloud was rising there that was so soon to overshadow the brightness of her youthful path.

As she hurried from the terrace to seek General Montgomery and acquaint him with the good news, Miss Macalpine followed her with her eyes,