Per

The

contemptuously from the very idea. sonal beauty had no charms for her. clear strong head, the polished taste, the captivating elegance, the delicate and deep feelings, of the rebel,-and she writhed as she mentally pronounced the word, could never, never be effaced from memory, even were a thousand Herberts to lay their hearts at her feet.

The next morning the ladies left Shaftesbury. They were escorted by a party of horse; Mr. Sidney, in a military garb, riding at the van, and Nigel, to the great relief of the ladies within the coach, was allowed to ride a sorry jade, not wretched enough to be killed, but which he had the comfort of goading and pricking to his heart's content. In order to escape observation, they set out early; yet the freshness of renovated nature had vanished from the surrounding country. As they passed through the silent streets, they looked eagerly out upon the place of their abiding during the first period of imprisonment.

Lady Arundel was well acquainted

with Shaftesbury, and, after a momentary glance, she sank back again, observing to her companions that "Times are sorely changed now. I remember when this town was noted for its former piety; and when the walls of the nunnery, founded by the pious Elfgiva, were standing. But now" she was interrupted; for, on the cavalcade emerging from the arch of the gateway, Mr. Godolphin rode up to address her ladyship.

He begged respectfully to know how she had passed the night; and, after receiving a courteous reply, he added

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My instructions were received at so late an hour, and were so peremptory, that I could not apprize you of our march to-day. And I am now forbidden to disclose to your ladyship the place of your present destination, lest by any chance you might convey the intelligence to Lord Arundel. On one point rest assured, it shall not be to the region of infection."

He spurred his horse on as he spoke, and rode up to the head of his troop.

Lady Arundel made no observation; but, taking out a devotional book, endeavoured to fix her attention upon its contents.

It was eight o'clock when the troop entered the grassy track of the forest of Gillingham, and refreshed their horses, for a brief space, in the glassy stream of the river Stoure.

"It seems like a dream," whispered Blanch to Mr. Godolphin, who now rode up to the window nearest to which she sat, "that we are here; and that you should be our guardian-angel, I should say;-but you Puritans do not believe in angels."

"And how could you guess that I am a Puritan?" replied Mr. Godolphin, somewhat gravely; "you wilfully misunderstand my motives, wishes, feelings." He spoke with an air of vexation; and Blanch perceived that she had again unintentionally wounded him so difficult is it for persons of different religions, and of different opinions, to escape dissension in this erring and pertinacious world.

"Well," replied Blanch, angry with

herself, and, therefore, not quite at peace with any one else, "it little matters; we shall soon part for good at Frome-most likely! or, at all events, at the Bath."

Mr. Godolphin answered her only by a grave and searching look. Then he rode away to his duties; and, during the rest of their journey through the forest, Blanch saw nothing,-not the gnarled oaks, old as the hills,-not the white water-lilies which grew by the sedgy side of the river stream, throwing up their alabaster cups from the clear deep green of the water, not the startled squirrels which fled to the topmost boughs of the beech, as the carriage wheels resounded, -not, in short, anything, save that appealing look which went to her fond heart, obliterating every recollection of rebels and Roundheads, Cavaliers and Catholics, and even dispelling the image of Mr. Herbert altogether.

Engrossed with these thoughts, villages were passed, hills surmounted, towns were seen in the distance, with little interchange of conversation between Blanch,

her aunt, and cousin. At length, after passing round the Beacon Hill, and leaving to the right King's Deverill, and Maiden Bradley, the party approached the town of Frome, which Mr. Godolphin appeared anxious to reach ere the gates were closed.

Hitherto, the region through which the travellers had passed, disclosed little of the effects of that consuming contest which was desolating the midland counties of England. Troops of military quartered in the once-peaceful villages, betrayed, indeed, that the country was under martial law; but these were all parliament soldiers, and they had their unhappy empire, at present, entirely to themselves.

Frome was strongly fortified; and parties were riding, here and there, scouring the country, on the evident look-out for an attack. All signs and sounds of rural occupation were hushed; the labourer, in the cottage by the road-side, had barred his shutters and closed his door; and the cheerful blazing of the wood-fire, and the