ing and vivid flame ;-but I must tell you in what

manner.

Twice has my page rescued me from certain destruction, and thereby rendered himself dear to my father and all the inmates of my home; whilst I (oh, Blanch! couldst thou but see the blushes on my cheek at this moment) felt even a warmer sentiment than gratitude and esteem for my preserver. Truly he was born for a woman's warmest affection; with a face and form of more than ordinary beauty, he united accomplishments beyond his age; he was skilful in the use of the bow; unequalled in throwing the hunting spear; and the lute, in his hands, became an instrument capable of affording sounds which the fabled spirits of the deep would not have disdained to imitate. Dearest Blanch, I am a sad thoughtless child, but bear with me a while.

'One evening, I was sitting in my bower, and constrained to listen to the vows and protestations of my father's friend, the Lord of Ardleigh, who, provokingly, stood stationary beside me; sanctioned by my parent, he thought but to woo and win, and little fancied that a giddy girl would dare dispute his overweening power. The honeyed accents of love suited not the rough and untutored warrior; and, compared with the form of Jocelyn, he appeared still more odious to me. It was in a mood not the sweetest that the page suddenly appeared before us; and, while his eyes swam in tears, respectfully informed me that a message from his father, who was enraged at his still remaining in a lady's rétinue, had summoned him to join the camp of his sovereign without delay; he pressed his lips convulsively to the end of my robe, as he concluded, and strove, in vain, to repel the groans of anguish which would show the agony he endured.

Poor boy," said the baron ironically; "thou art illsuited to the privations of a soldier's life. That dainty vesture, of spotless silk, must be soon exchanged for the rough jerkin and plumeless helmet of the warrior; so weep on, weep on,- -thy vain regrets must be ex

pended ere they be scoffed at by all the martial host. Shame, shame on thee, thou coward boy," he added in a loud tone. "A coward didst thou say? repeat your words, my lord," replied Jocelyn, starting on his feet; "but I am a coward to listen to thee so tacitly. My Lord of Ardleigh, a time shall come when thy insolence shall be repaid with well-merited chastisement;" and he shook his clenched hand in an excess of passion.

Ha! dost thou threaten me ?" returned the baron, in a voice rendered tremulous by rage; dastardly boy, the whip shall recompense thee for this. Methinks the Lady Isabel," he continued, turning to me," should teach her menials the respect due to high birth and a plumed casque; but perhaps she is pleased to see her petted page assume an appearance of courage to which he is a stranger."

"The Lady Isabel," I replied, "would be pleased to see, under a rude exterior, a feeling and a noble heart, which would be valued, like an unpolished gem, not for its appearance but the knowledge of its worth; as such, my lord, your presence I should not have disdained to seek; but, as I am compelled to say, you possess the rough exterior without the jewel's valuea lady's bower is less suited to you than the chieftain's hall." I waved my hand, haughtily, for him to depart, and he instantly left me.

The page threw himself again before me, and once more bade me adieu. "Yet, ere I go, lady," he said, "I would ask a boon,-my first and last; give me thy broidered scarf, which, on the battle-field, shall be my defence in the time of mortal strife, and shield me from the sword of the enemy; then shall the recollection of the donor nerve my arm, and strengthen me in the hour of peril; and should I fall, lady, thy image will still live in my remembrance, and last thought will be of thee. But, if I return again," he continued rapidly, "and once more visit Glen Hammond Castle, I shall find thee, lady, the bride of the Lord of Ardleigh; these petty disputes are but the forerunners of more lasting affection. That thou may'st be happy, Lady Isabel,"

my

and his voice was again choked with sobs, "shall be the dying prayer of the Page Jocelyn." He snatched the scarf from me, and, before I could reply, had fled my presence.

Oh! the bitter agony of that sad moment; I felt bereaved of every earthly comfort, and, weeping convulsively, remained, insensible of the flitting hours, until darkness shrouded the face of the heavens, when I retired to rest.'

*

When I joined my father, on the following morning, in the hall, I was doomed again to hear the protestations of the baron, who strove, by attentions, which appeared doubly loathsome, to banish from my remembrance the event of the preceding evening; but, with bitter taunts and upbraidings, I turned away, and addressed Maud, my tire-woman, who stood behind my chair. He bit his nether lip, till a slow stream of darklycoloured blood stole down his beard, and fell on his polished breast-plate; whilst I, who shudder at the slightest stain of the ensanguined fluid, now looked at him, with a cold, proud smile, and, after a slight repast, left the apartment.'

*

'I am free again Blanch. Like the timid fawn which, swift as the wind, speeds before my window, and appears rejoicing in its liberty-so am I; unshackled and unimpeded. Oh! it is sweet to think I am no longer burdened with the affections of one who was hateful to me; and from whose fondest glances I turned away as from a basilisk.'

There was here a considerable break in the story, and, in spite of my exertions, I could not peruse even a few words of the obliterated and mouldy writing for some pages: it again continued:-

Come and visit me, dearest Blanche, an' thou still lovest me; truly I much need consolation, for, since my father's death, I feel as if all earthly ties were rent asunder; and alone in Glen Hammond Castle I am a

miserable and isolated being. I shall send you my portrait; but you will look in vain for the features of the gladsome child of former years; in truth, I am strangely altered, and, in spite of the entreaties of Maud, I cannot join in the gaiety of my neighbours; their mirth and joyous festivity would be dispelled by the presence of the gloomy Lady Isabel; indeed I am more fitted for the cloister.

'I have met, since I last wrote, a young knight, whose lands join mine; but of whose existence I was, till lately, a stranger to. For many years an ancient feud has prevented any intercourse between our families; but I have no desire to assume an enmity to one who has never, by the slightest gesture, offended me; and he has, therefore, been admitted, and, in the presence of Maud, frequently visited me I am not insensible of his attentions; and doubly feel the kindness of those who show themselves interested in so miserable a being. Could I banish from my recollection one, whom I can never think of without agony too deep for utterance, I might be induced to lay aside my garb of mourning, and once more mingle in society; but the chain that bound me to the world is riven, and I shall never feel the happiness of my youth again. Sometimes when I listen to the animated conversation of my new friend, Sir Hubert Tyrrel, he brings to my remembrance such visions of departed bliss that he smiles, and wonders at the simplicity of the foolish being who often weeps beside him; and then does he speak of his love, and prays but to be thought of as the veriest hireling in my castle, so as he is thought of. Oh, Blanch! can I ever regard him, when HF (I cannot write the name) still engrosses all my affection. I will think of Sir Hubert as a friend,nothing more.'

*

*

Decay had again rendered many lines of the above letter illegible, and I, therefore, proceeded to the next, which fully shows how speedily youthful sorrow may be changed to mirth and rejoicing.

'How happy I am, my sweet cousin, that your longintended visit has been so often deferred; you have participated in all my sorrows, and must not be a stranger to the happiness of your no longer wretched Isabel. I have much to write you, and more to tell, and with what heartfelt pleasure shall I welcome you to Glen Hammond Castle.

*

After

Sir Hubert had brought a curtained picture to me, which he promised to discover ere he left me. months of patient bearing my petty whims, my icy heart has been thawed by his affection, and he was received as my future husband, to the joy and delight of my faithful Maud. But to proceed: he was listening to my lute, and when I had concluded my fanciful madrigal, he drew it playfully from me, and touching the chords with a degree of tenderness which surprised me, sang, in a clear, manly tone, the following

MELODY.

'Oh! gently ply the splashing oar,
And hie thee o'er the sea;

For high upon the castle tower

My lady waits for me.

Then blow thee on, thou fresh'ning gale,

And let thy murmurs tell,

Her absent lover spreads the sail,

And comes to Isabel.

Oh! plough the surge, my gallant barque,
And haste thee to the land,

For

see, amid yon forests dark,

My lady's turrets stand:

And speed thee on, thou snowy bird,
Haste o'er the dark sea's swell;
say her chieftain's voice was heard
To sing of Isabel.

And

But now I stand and touch my lyre,
Beside my lady fair,

And sing of all the anguish dire
That I have felt for her;