spent a summer in the north, and, in return for his acting as guide, had taken great pains to render him a proficient.

The conversation soon turned on foreign countries, and Mr. De Roos charmed all with his animated and entertaining anecdotes of painters and paintings.

"Miss St. Maur," said Mrs. Carleton, after whispering to her daughter, unheard, as she vainly thought, by Helen, "her carriage will be convenient,' as Mrs. Hargrave will not attend Mrs. Throgmorton's ball, I shall be very happy to become your chaperon, and you had better dine and sleep with Some people say there is no occasion for a chaperon at a private dance, but I say no prudent mother will sanction such an idea.'

us.

"Thank you; but as I dine and sleep at Mrs. Throgmorton's, I shall require no chaperon."

"Oh! just as you please! but I thought I might be of some use to you, though I dare say you prefer Mrs. Throgmorton;" and she drew herself up in her usual style when offended, with or without a cause.

"I assure you I estimate your offer as it deserves."

The lady retired with a stately step, followed, after a due number of coquettish airs, by her daughter, handed, or rather armed by Mr. De Roos, who, willingly or unwillingly, was obliged to perform the office.

"Miss St. Maur," he said, on his return, "I have some Italian prints which I am sure would please you. When I pay my visit of etiquette to-morrow, to introduce Elliott in due form, you must allow me to bring them.'

"Not only allow, but render you many thanks, as I have a passion for the art!"

"What! are you and De Roos owning a talent for the art of designing?" inquired Alford.

"No!" she replied with an arch smile, " Mr. De Roos positively denies all talent in that way."

"He is only modest; do not believe him."

"Who shall decide when doctors disagree?" assuming a doubtful air.

"I trust the cause to your penetration," replied Mr. De Roos, with a graceful bow and imploring look.

"My 'vanity' you mean, since to that you appeal. Take care you have not prudence and all the moralities against you.

"I assure you, I have heard De Roos praised for designing and drawing," continued Alford.

VOL. I.

U

"Designing to escape from mischief-makers, and drawing inferences and conclusions," rejoined the laughing De Roos, wishing Helen good night, and then making his adieux to the rest of the company.

"There are some things, Miss St. Maur," said Elliott, "that can be felt, but never told; and the heart which dictates acts of kindness can alone appreciate the gratitude they excite. I entered your drawing-room with some thoughts of turning misanthrope; I leave it with feelings of love for all around me. The last few hours have been to me more than years of my past life; things in them have come across my mind, like some 'witching song heard in earlier years, bringing back the fairy dreams and bright hopes of childhood, not to awaken regret, but to rouse to action. The gloom of despair has fled before your smile, and it only remains to prove worthy of your interest. Good night!"

Before she could recover from her surprise, he had left the room.

"What was your protégé saying to his champion?" asked Alford; "a little while since, and his face was as dull as a November fog, and just now it was absolutely clear, bright, dazzling sunshine-a very dog-day in warmth and brilliancy— whilst you stood ready to enact an April morn, all shine and showers. I verily believe Mrs. Carleton was right; and that this northern stranger is Michael Scott himself, who has thrown his glamour o'er you.'

"If you will invent, let your inventions have a little more of probability. If you were to mention Michael Scott to Mrs. Carleton, she would ask if he were any relation to Thomas Scott, who keeps the Cat and Fiddle,' on the road." Why, now you are too hard upon the pompous lady! She would only confound Michael Scott and Walter Scott; and wiser heads might be puzzled to decide which was the greater magician."

66

But, joking apart now, this I heard: Nonsense about a quiet, shy young man, and a good-natured hostess. My daughter Harriet says he is not at all shy, but an ugly, awkward bear, who looks sometimes as if he would eat up Mr. De Roos, who is so kind to him; and I say it is not decorous in a young lady to make a fuss about a stranger. I call her his champion !'

"Am I to believe this?"

"Indeed you may.

her again."

You must promise me never to ask

"I should rather blame you for repeating what was never intended for my ears. I am much vexed, for, till she can get a new tale, she will be sure to repeat this to every one she sees, and the soubriquets of champion and protégé, will become the general talk, whilst the size and figure of my supposed pet will render the story too good to be soon forgotten.'

"I never thought of that!" and he burst into a loud laugh at the idea. "We shall have some new caricatures on the old story of the mouse and the lion. But what will you do?"

"Just as I should have done before. I am not to be daunted by a sneer or a laugh, though I may be annoyed; and you must aid and serve me by being marked in your attentions."

"I knew that would be your decision; nor is it rash, for, in his case, no one can suspect you of a warmer feeling than pity. I would try to frighten Mrs. Carleton into silence, did I not fear it would be with as little success as attended De Roos, when he tried to persuade her daughter not to publish his friend's gaucheries and dependence."

"Did he do that?"

"Yes, but with a want of tact I did not expect from him." "Rather with a want of will, I suspect; and it is this suspi cion of unfair play, which makes me urge you to befriend this stranger."

"And to do the same yourself?”

Why, my pretty playfellow! you should have lived in the days of knight-errantry, and been the bride of Sir Launcelot. Your heart is too warm for these cold times. But vex not at spite or gossip; and I will tame and protect this poor bear : and, never fear De Roos, I doubt his power still more than his will to harm.”

"You will never rate him as he should be rated."

"Nous verrons, as you said before; and now farewell, for Mrs. Hargrave is yawning, and I am

The last guest of Hurlestone,

Left talking alone.'”

CHAPTER XV.

'Tis not the note of gathering shell,
Of fairy horn, nor silver bell,
No, 'tis the lute's mellifluous swell,
Mixed with a maiden's voice so clear,
The flitting bats flock round to hear!
So wildly through the vault it rung.
That song, if in the green wood sung,
Would draw the fays of wood and plain
To kiss the lips that poured the strain.
The lofty pine would listening lean;
The wild birch wave her tresses green;
And larks, that rose the dawn to greet,
Drop lifeless at the singer's feet.

HOGG.

WHEN Mr. De Roos, accompanied by Mr. Elliott, brought over the Italian prints the next morning, they were shown into Helen's own room, where she sat surrounded by books and curiosities, in order and out of order. She was engaged in copying the drawing which had been criticised the night before, and had just finished a sketch, with its faults amended as Mr. Elliott had pointed out. She appealed to him concerning a slight alteration; then putting it aside, turned her attention to the prints, whose beauty had by no means been overrated. Their owner seemed in his element whilst showing them, or relating the tales attached to each; and so delighted were his auditors that time passed by unperceived, and it would have been difficult to decide who was the most gratified of the three; certainly Helen was not the least so. The last leaf was turning as the door opened, and Lady Catherine Alford entered unannounced. All were so deeply engaged that her presence was unremarked.

"Am I the possessor of the magic belt, that makes its wearer invisible? If it had been a tête-à-tête, I should have slipped out again on tiptoe, but a trio cannot be disturbed." Then putting up her glass: "Showing off-wild beasts, I conclude!" she added, glancing at Elliott, who looked at her in surprise.

"Wrong, Catherine! rather a dissertation on the polite arts, which I am sorry you have lost. With Mr. De Roos you are already acquainted, allow me to introduce his friend and visitor. Lady Catherine Alford, Mr. Elliott."

An observer must have thought the lady's bow as slight

and cold as bow could be, had not the gentleman's surpassed it in both respects, and that without his appearing in the slightest degree hurt or offended.

"Did Alford accompany you?" asked Helen.

"No; but don't pout about it, for he is to join me shortly. Really you and Alford are inseparable. I have no advantage of his services as a brother, and he is so much more at Hurlestone than at Marston, that I am quite sure, were any of his horses turned loose, they would come over here of their own accord. I fully expect to salute you as sister one of these days."

"But soon the rival sisters flew
From kissing to disputing,"

exclaimed Alford, who entered at the moment, and was by no means pleased with Catherine's burst of ill-humour: "Miss St. Maur would never deign to ally herself to such a crack brain as I, or such a severe wit as you, or she might be Lady Alford to-morrow."

"L'amour commence par l'amour, et l'on ne sauroit passer de la plus forte amitié qu'à un amour foible, or I might take you at your word," said Helen, smiling, " but Catherine knows she will never laugh us out of our regard. So welcome to Hurlestone, and your sister must not be jealous if you play brother to us both."

All this was said so kindly, that even Catherine could not resist it, and answered in a more friendly tone:

I am tired of trying to quarrel with you, Helen, you are so stupidly good-tempered; and as to quarrelling with Alford, that is still more hopeless, as he never thinks long enough on any one subject to allow it to be accomplished; so I suppose I must submit to the monotony of harmony at present:" and she turned and entered into an encounter of wits with Mr. De Roos, who was no mean antagonist; whilst the other three failed not to do their parts in "astounding silence."

"I am to be sure to take home to my lady mother an account of your flower garden; so come and show all about it," said Catherine, as she rose from her seat in the dining-room, whither they had adjourned for refreshments.

As they passed one of the windows, Helen perceived a horse, bridled and saddled, feeding in the park with no one near him. "Whose horse can that be?" she said. "I fear some accident must have happened."

"Do not be alarmed: it is mine," replied Elliott.