reach her. One hand rested on the balustrade, while the other was lifted up to heaven. Her countenance was upturned in the same direction. Every thing was motionless about her except her heart and lips; the one beat tumultuously, the others moved in some inaudible prayer. As the

white light of the moon fell only on the outline of her figure, making her pale face paler, and glittering on the drapery of her shawl, she appeared more like a statue of the purest alabaster than a human creature.

Leslie was struck with her unearthly appearance, and paused as he came near her. She was, however, sensible of his approach, and receding from him, forbad him again to touch her, exclaiming, "Oh! why, why did I consent to come? I deserve it all-all that can come upon me for this guilty imprudence; and I pray Heaven to enable me to endure my punishment with fortitude."

"Nay, nay," replied Leslie; "all is safe-all are in ig

norance."

"Except my own heart and conscience," said Agnes, solemnly; "they are not ignorant; and Heaven grant me patience to endure the agony of the one and the bitter reproaches of the other!" and she moved away.

"But hear me-hear me ;" and Leslie would have advanced towards her.

"Nay, Sir Robert Leslie, follow me not; I insist, I command that you approach not one step nearer, and that you permit my passage to the house I ought never to have quitted:" and Agnes spoke with a firmness that she had not hitherto exhibited during the interview. "I have not the power to forbid you my husband's house, because it would betray your secret, but, Sir Robert, if that manly generosity for which I have hitherto given you credit, really exists in your heart, you will never increase the bitterness of my repentance by the continuance of your presence."

The tone of voice, and the whole manner of Agnes, was now so collected and so firm, that Leslie saw all hope of again rousing a feeling in his favour was at an end, and his heart bitterly cursed Trevor. All he could now do was to secure his forgiveness.

"Any thing, every thing you require shall be done," said he, "only let me so manage it that I may run no risk of compromising your honour."

"Nay, Sir, never mind me, my honour can defend itself,'' said Agnes.

"God forbid that I should doubt it," replied he.

"Permit my free passage, Sir Robert Leslie," again demanded Agnes, for he stood directly across the path which led to the house.

"Let me but convince you that the results of this interview were not premeditated-that if I have erred, it has been only through the uncontrollable impulse of the moment, and not in the premeditated intention. Breathé but my forgiveness before you go, that my heart may not be left to the agony of bearing your displeasure, and I will be any thing and every thing you wish to make me." As Leslie said this he made way for her to pass. Agnes was nearly exhausted by the energy with which she had uttered the few last sentences.

"Sir Robert Leslie," said she, "I do forgive you-would to God I could forgive myself!"

This was uttered in a voice so tremulous that it again encouraged his hopes; he advanced towards her, but she was already gone; and he only caught a glimpse of her white drapery, as with her little remaining strength she threaded the dark labyrinth of the trees in her flight towards the house.

Leslie knew that it was in vain to follow her, and he rushed down to the sea, there venting his hot and ungratified passions in curses both loud and deep against Trevor, himself, Agnes, and the whole world.

CHAPTER XV.

THE CASHMERE.

Lie begets lie.-One evil is sire to another.

AXIOMS.

AGNES Stopped not till she arrived in her dressing-room. She entered, as she had quitted it, through the French casement of her boudoir, which opened on to the terrace, and, fortunately, unperceived. The moment she found herself in safety, she hastily turned the key in the lock of the door, and throwing off her shawl, sunk on her knees by the side of the sofa in an agony of tears. For several minutes she was overcome almost to fainting, but in some degree relieved of the full measure of her feeling by her tears; she buried her face in the cushions, as though she was ashamed that it should see the light.

For some time she continued to sob in an agony of grief. Her heart seemed ready to break with its palpitation. She lifted up her streaming eyes to heaven, and attempted to pray. But the attempt died away in undistinguishable sounds. She felt that she had anticipated in Leslie's sin-that her own heart was not entirely innocent-that her own feelings had not been entirely untouched-the fire of unholy love had been kindled in her veins, and however it might be concealed from others, to her own heart she could not but acknowledge the secret guilt. True, she had resisted-true, she had triumphed over the momentary feeling-but it had been there, and it had left its traces. It was not extinguished-and it might rise again. Even now her soul was in tumults, and she could not-she dared not pray; she could not-she dared not think :-all she could do was to weep-and sigh-and accuse herself of her involuntary crime. It was in vain her husband's glaring neglect and open infidelities arose in her

mind; she considered them as no apology. Nothing could allay the pang of bitter repentance that shot through her heart as she recollected the feelings by which she had been agitated during the last hour. She was compelled with agony to acknowledge, that, unknown to herself, she had been harbouring a guilty passion under the semblance of friendship. She could not deny to herself that she loved Leslie: the truth burst upon her with all the horrors connected with such a feeling in a virtuous mind, and she again gave herself up to the agony which this thought created.

Suddenly she was disturbed by a knocking at the door of her boudoir, and with breathless anxiety she heard her husband's voice demanding admittance. Surprised at so unusual a circumstance, and conscience stricken, she remained a few seconds motionless-uncertain how to act. Terror dried her tears. Could he have known her? Was he come to reproach her? were questions naturally suggested to her mind. How to act! what to say or do! she had no time for reflection. A second summons louder than the first, forced her from her dressing-room to the door, and she almost determined on her knees to confess all, and to entreat forgiveness; so entirely at this moment had she forgotten all her husbands wrongs towards her, so completely occupied was she with her ideas of her own guilty feelings, and with her repentance.

The sight of Trevor, still under the influence of wine, and laughing, soon set her mind at rest with regard to any discovery he might have made.

Why, Agnes, you are quite barricadoed," said he, "and as difficult of access as an eastern queen.

"I am ill-out of spirits-unfit for society-and-I thought a few hours' quiet might restore me," stammered Agnes, again betrayed into a half falsehood.

"You are right, my love," replied Trevor, "they do make a confounded noise with their music below; those eternal Miss Digginses are come, and have done nothing but play duets with each other, loud enough to stun anybody; and that sentimental Miss Tinkler, with her Italian master Da Capo and their guitars, really wear one's nerves thread. bare. I wish to God their fathers, and uncles, and cousins, had been freeholders in any other county than this."

Agnès silently assented; greatly relieved from her fears. but still utterly at a loss to know the meaning of such an unusal visit, and still afraid to inquirc.

Trevor at length, seeming to recollect something which his description of the people in the drawing-room had for a moment put out of his head, burst into a violent fit of laughter.

"Oh, Agnes! such a discovery!" said he, "such a discovery about our friend Leslie !".

Agnes trembled, turned paler than before, and could scarcely prevent herself from falling; the influence of the wine was, however, still too potent to permit Trevor to observe her agitation.

"A discovery!" she faintly articulated.

"Yes-a discovery! I know you always supposed Leslie attached to somebody; and that you were curious to know the object," said Trevor, "and I have found it out."

Agnes felt nearly ready to faint. Had he really discovered her? She knew that she could resolve this question in a moment by a single glance, but her consciousness took from her the power to look in his face.

"Ha ha! ha! Poor Leslie! He certainly is in for itas we say on the turf: madly-desperately in love-ha! ha! ha! It is really quite delightful to see the knowing ones sometimes taken in themselves. Now I have heard him swear a hundred times that none of your sex could make him feel. But by his behaviour to-night, I apprehend he has found the contrary-ha! ha! ha!"

Agnes was by this time at ease with regard to his knowledge of her; but the subject filled her with terror and disgust, and she roused her energies to try to persuade Trevor again to leave her to herself.

"But, Mr. Trevor-Charles-what is this to me?" asked Agnes.

"Oh! I have often observed your curiosity on the subject," said Trevor," and I now come to give you the opportunity of gratifying it. I owe you something, my love, for the present of your portrait." Agnes shuddered, and again felt faint.

"Well-well, but not now, some other time-my head-" she had almost said her heart-" aches, and I am unfit for any thing but my pillow. Pray-pray, leave me; and you, too, Mr. Trevor, I am sure you would be the better for a little repose."

"Why, to be sure," said he, "these confounded freeholders do make one drink; and my head certainly does not,