old maids here of all things; and she says she is going to be one herself.'

What, a hideous old maid!' said Lady Hunlocke, laughing.

No,--not a hideous old maid, though they are all hideous enough, heaven knows! Nobody but you, Miss St. Clair, ever found any thing to admire in an old maid.'

'At least if Miss St. Clair were to be one, every body would find something to admire in an old maid,' said Lindsay.

'O, it is impossible to get at what you thinkyou are so full of compliments.'

'Not quite impossible, I think ;' said Lady Hunlocke, significantly, sotto voce, as if to herself.

Something Lindsay said to Caroline, in so low a voice that no other ear could catch it--and with a look which she alone felt; whatever it was, it brought the mantling blushes into her cheeks, and without replying, she hastened to join the rest of the party, who were moving away.

As soon as Lindsay had handed the ladies into their carriage, he joined Colonel Cleveland in his morning's ride, and by turning the conversation upon Breadalbane--a subject he had heretofore cautiously avoided-he soon learnt from his communicative companion, the whole story of Caroline's resolute rejection of her devoted lover at Venice; together with the Colonel's private opinion that she must be out of her senses to refuse such an offer.

To this, Lindsay, who was absorbed in his own tumultuous thoughts and feelings, gave a mechanical assent, to his own inexpressible amusement, when he recalled to mind afterwards what he had been saying; and he remembered, that amongst

other things, he had actually agreed it was a great pity she had not accepted Mr. Breadalbane!

Scarcely had Colonel Cleveland got home before he triumphantly imparted to Miss St. Clair, Lindsay's decided disapprobation of her refusal of Mr. Breadalbane, and his sincere regret at hearing of it. Scarcely could Caroline believe him; but Colonel Cleveland was sincerity itself, and he reiterated again and again I assure you, Lindsay perfectly agreed with me. He was quite of my opinion in every respect. He thought you much to blame to refuse Breadalbane, and regretted it as much as I did. Now, you don't look pleased. Now, I know that's because you think I should not have told him; but, observe, I did not let it out-No, no, I would not have betrayed Breadalbane. No man likes to have it trumpeted abroad that he has been refused. But Lindsay knew of it, for Breadalbane had told him at Pietra Mala he was going to Venice, to propose to you: only Lindsay never thought of asking, till to-day, whether you had accepted him or not.'

The glow of indignation which overspread Caroline's fine face on hearing this, expressed but imperfectly her feelings. She was indignant that Mr. Lindsay should make her actions the subject of animadversion-indignant that he should have the presumption to blame them,--indignant that he should think that she ought to have jumped at Breadalbane's offer;- but she was wounded to the heart that he was sorry she had not accepted him-and mortified beyond description that he had not even had sufficient curiosity to inquire before now, if she was going to be married. to him or not.

Little did she know that he had understood she

was irrevocably engaged to Breadalbane, and that he avoided the subject only because it was torture to him!

CHAPTER LI.

LOVERS' VOWS.

Sweet! I love thee,

And would be gladder to be lov'd again,
Than the cold earth is in his frozen arms

To clip the wanton spring. Nay, do not start,
Nor wonder that I woo thee.

Faithful Shepherdess.

O most gentle Jupiter! What a tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried,' Have patience, good people! SHAKSPEARE.

CAROLINE'S delight was the gallery. Day after day, with unwearied pleasure, she returned to gaze upon its inexhaustible treasures of art. Some of the choicest of these, however, are preserved in rooms which are locked up, excepting once in every two hours, when one of the Custodi, with a train of gaping strangers at his heels, makes the circuit of the whole, carefully locking every door behind him, and inexorably refusing to prolong his stay one moment beyond the stated time.

These cursory surveys by no means satisfied Caroline ;-before she had nearly satisfied herself with the beauties of one painting or statue, she

6

was compelled to follow the rabble rout' out of that room into the next, when the same hasty glance only provoked the appetite which grows with what it feeds on.' One of these Custodi, who himself possessed the true Italian feeling for the Arts, observed the eager delight with which she instantly singled out from all the rest, the finest master-piece, and sympathising in the longing lingering look' she threw behind her when compelled to quit it, charitably proposed to leave her behind him-provided she would consent to be locked up for the next two hours. To this she gladly con sented, more especially as she wished to profit by the offered opportunity to copy, undisturbed, the exquisite head of St. Cecilia, by Carlo Dolce, and a few more of the pictures. Almost every day, therefore, one or other of the rooms became her voluntary prison, in which she enjoyed, without interruption or observation, the study of the finest productions of the great masters, and the delightful occupation of sketching their designs.

The morning after the interview alluded to in the last chapter, at the Palazzo Pitti, Caroline went as usual to the Gallery, and as usual was left locked up in the room containing the portraits of painters, when the Custode took his departure, followed by his flock. She was at present engaged in copying the unrivalled portrait of Lionardo da Vinci, by himself, and she stood for a few minutes before commencing her drawing, wrapt in admiration before it, wholly unconscious that any one was in the room,-when a hasty step approached her from a recess at the other end of the apartment, and a well known voice apologised for intruding upon her. Caroline started, and emotion not to be controlled 15*

VOL. III.

thrilled through her frame and crimsoned her cheek -for it was the voice of Mr. Lindsay.

Having learnt at Colonel Cleveland's, where he had called, that she was gone to the Gallery, he had followed her there, and entered the room unobserved by her, while she was absorbed in contemplation of the paintings. A word and a scudo to the Custode, easily procured him the privilege of sharing the imprisonment to which he knew she voluntarily submitted.

He again renewed his apologies for his presumption, with the most respectful seeming diffidence ;while perhaps the increased fire of his eye, and glow of his cheek, betrayed that her obvious confusion augmented his confidence.

6

But,' said Caroline, attempting to rally her spirits and recover her self-command, instead of wasting your time in apologies, you must employ it to effect your liberation, while it is yet possible.'

'Must I?' he said; gently detaining her as she was hastily moving to the door- Must I, indeed ?' His eyes, under the glance of which hers instantly dropped, again called up her conscious blushes. 'Must I go?' he repeated.

'If you delay, the Custode will be out of hearing -for I am locked up for two hours.'

* And will you not allow me to share your imprisonment ?'

'O no, no!'

• Will you not? Yes-let me stay with you, dearest Miss St Clair! Say that you will let me stay?'

She had not raised her eyes, yet the tone of his voice alone thrilled to her heart; still she made another effort to master her feelings, and tried laughingly to say, 'that she had already exposed herself to so much misrepresentation from inadvertently