blessed placidity which breathes round an English home, or that the book's magic recalled by analogy his Edith as he once regarded her, I know not; but this night he saw her with the glory of peace and innocence playing around her. The moon shone cloudlessly in that bright arched bay, where their last moments of troubled joy had glided. Like a spirit sent from above to redeem man's trembling soul, Edith's stood beside the radiant waters. A tear dimmed the solemn blue of her eye, but a smile played upon her lip. "You have wronged me, Henry," she said, "but I forgive you-may God as easily forgive you your forgetfulness of him-where is the book I gave you ?” Waldegrave could not answer; he took her hand, and, falling on his knees, silently implored her to forget the past. She smiled, then pointing upwards, said; "pray there." His strong agitation broke the bands of sleep, and he suddenly sprang up: "I have wronged her by Heaven, I believe; where is the book she gave me ?" "Oh! Edith, Edith! I swore to preserve that blessed relic of my golden hours for ever, to cherish it for your sake!" Then a chill came over his heart, as he recollected her note to Villanza. Most of us have felt something of that vivid existence sometimes passed in sleep, and can tell how powerfully the scenes of our creation, as if drawn with the pencil of reality, lived before us. That which was nothing appeared so true and palpable that it long haunts our waking minds, and stands embodied to our sight. On looking at his watch, Waldegrave found that it was nearly breakfast-time. He hastened to dress; but not all the efforts of which he was capable could dispel the deep melancholy which Edith's words and looks had shed over his soul. CHAPTER XXX.* Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, SHAKSPEARE. "WHY, bless me, my dear boy," said Lady Egmont, as Waldegrave took his seat at the breakfast-table," what is the matter with you? you look much worse by day-light than you did by candle-light-upon my word we must send for the doctor." Nothing recalls the colour so quickly into a pale cheek as a remark on its bloodlessness, which fortunately for Waldegrave he had proved before his grandmother's observation fixed on him a parent's anxious gaze. "I should have said, begging your pardon, my dear mother," replied Lord Egmont, "that his looks were improved; there is more bloom on that cheek than we saw last night. I know not how he has contrived it without the tender nurse who has lately rocked him to sleep. How is it, Harry?" Why, I think," said Waldegrave, "that I can manage to rest here as well as in my hammock, and of late my nurse has been so boisterous that she and sleep have had a hard matter between them." "'Tis a terrible thing as you say," quoth Sir Claude, "that falling asleep, it is not three weeks ago since I got into the watch-house about it." "Ha! how was that?" said Lord Egmont. "Oh! no," said Lady Egmont, "do not let us have that story; besides, my dear Sir Claude, nobody was talking about falling asleep." "Yes, Mr. Waldegrave was," said Sir Claude, “and I will just tell him my adventure, with your good leave, as a warning not to fall asleep in a shop." "It amazes me, Sir Claude," said Lady Egmont, "that you can find amusement in retailing so melancholy a proof of modern degeneracy, the very reverse of that demonstration of dignified resentment, which in my youth, under similar circumstances, would have been unanimous. That a baronet of Sir Claude's consequence could have been taken up by the police of the metropolis as a shoplifter, is an alarming proof that democracy is spreading its contagion over the land with awful strides". "I beg a thousand pardons for intruding on so very interesting a point of Milady Egmont's oration," said a voice from the door, "but as I was riding to Sir Claude's just now, I met his groom, who told me that he and Milady were gone to Egmont, because young Master Waldegrave was suddenly returned from his travels; so thinks I, as I suppose he will show himself for something less than half-acrown a-head to particular friends, I'll e'en gallop there, and have a look at my old acquaintance; so how d'ye do, Mr. Waldegrave ?" said Lady Louisa St. Aubrey; who, costumed in her riding habit, with whip in hand, now stood before the party, holding an arm extended towards Henry. To her inquiries concerning himself, Waldegrave answered by expressing similar interest in her health and prosperity, and concluded by fearing that her ride had been rendered unpleasant by the inclemency of the weather. "You are exceedingly kind, and mighty polite, Mr. Waldegrave," said Lady Louisa, "but I was always an outof-doors plant. You, I remember of old, were prodigiously afraid of the wind, or those nasty little airs,' as Miss Bridget used to call them. I cannot say, however, that your looks are much improved by this travelling. He is rather sheep-faced, is he not Lord Egmont ?" "With all my evil wishes," said Waldegrave, "I cannot return the compliment; for you appear to have gathered a nosegay for each cheek." "Bless me!" said Lady Louisa, "that's the prettiest speech I ever heard in my life; never tell me, Lady Egmont, that going abroad does a man harm. If you make two or three more such, I shall positively send you over the herringpond again for your second polish, lest the old modesty should re-appear: but don't let me disturb you; I will sit down to breakfast with you." Waldegrave, who had long determined, whenever chance should throw him again in Lady Louisa's way, to disarm her aggressive powers by excess of civility and attention, now flew to procure her a chair, and then to ring the bell for an additional plate and cup. "Well, this passes expectation!" said Lady Louisa, looking round at the party, and taking her seat. "Sir Claude, I was riding to see you this morning. Any news from Charing Cross?" “No, no, no, you little malignant!" said Sir Claude, smiling, "I will not be shown up about that, so pray shoot your arrows at some better mark. Have you no curiosity to hear about foreign countries ?" 66 'Why truly," said Lady Louisa, "the dread of having that dose administered, made me hesitate for a moment about coming here; and yet, by-the-by, I do want to ask a question or two about these same travels. Pray, Mr. Waldegrave, is it true that you were forced to fly the country, because, in a towering passion, you murdered your Italian servant?" "Not precisely," said Waldegrave, with as much gayety as he could affect. "And pray, is it true," continued she, "that you carried eff a handsome English widow from a convent which she had lately entered; and that while the Lady Abbess and her nuns were racing after you on donkeys, you lay hidden under some wet fagots on the quay at Naples two nights and a day?" "About as near the truth as before," said Waldegrave, vainly endeavouring to preserve his serenity. "And pray have I accurately heard," continued she, "that you were murdered by some fishermen on some lake, after which you astonishingly resuscitated, and slaughtered these genii of the water?" 66 "You seem to associate dark deeds most awfully with my name, Lady Louisa," said Waldegrave; "I shall suspect you have been studying Mrs. Radcliffe's romances of late." "Not I," said she, "I never read any romance but Pere grine Pickle: but pray is it true that you were cozened by some sharpers in Italy, and were obliged even to sell your old shoes to satisfy their demands, and that they released you from prison, only by your signing a deed that Lord Egmont should pay your debts by selling". "Oh, Heavens! Lady Louisa," exclaimed Waldegrave, blushing deeply, "do not waste your precious time in re failing the stories of other people; let us have some of your own genuine fancy; or, by-the-by, you promised us a story about Charing Cross. Sir Claude being now in a deep reverie, you can proceed without interruption." Lady Louisa accepted with alacrity the opportunity of assailing Sir Claude, but Lady Egmont interposed her high authority, protesting that his abstraction of mind should not subject him to be made ridiculous. After a little altercation, during which Sir Claude recovered, Lady Louisa was persuaded to reserve her anecdote for another time. "If I am positively compelled to relinquish the gratification of relating my story," said Lady Louisa, "as I came here for the special purpose of seeing Mr. Waldegrave, I hope he will be so good as to talk a little for my amusement. Pray how did you like abroad?" Begging your pardon, Lady Louisa," said Waldegrave, "'tis quite impossible that i should expatiate on such a topic, knowing that the dread of my traveller's tales had well nigh proved an impediment to your visit this morning. I will not be so inhospitable." "But I have changed my mind, and now I want to hear what you have been doing t'other side of the channel. You'll not make me believe that there is no truth in any of those reports I heard." "Not an atom, I assure you," said Waldegrave. "That is cruel; what! was there no murdering, no gambling, no carrying off a widow? By-the-by, I heard the widow's name, Lady Herm..... Hermes..... I cannot precisely remember it. Come, I have made you blush, which is a confession;-and what was there about the gambling?" Nothing, nothing, Lady Louisa," said Waldegrave, impatiently. 66 "Well, I must say, I should like to know something more of that same widow; was she very beautiful?" said Lady Louisa, rejoiced at discovering still one vulnerable point in Waldegrave, whose travelling armour she feared bore a hardness and polish enough to turn away her once potent weapons. "Moreover, I am particularly anxious to have one fact cleared up, highly important to all who are curious in the history of phenomena, which is, how, when the fishermen had murdered you, you could manage to murder them ?" "Why really, Lady Louisa, such was the effect those extraordinary scenes produced on my senses, that they deprived |