depth of her anguish at this threatened change. The remembrance of several beautiful hymns which, as children they had learned together, of the chapters they had conned over with Lady Edith, of the catechism they had learned, of the familyprayers in which they had united with Sir Evan, all recurred to the thoughts of Beatrice now with tearful sorrow; but she yet trusted that a foundation of faith, so carefully laid in Allan's mind, would not be easily overthrown; and unaccountable as his endless silence had become, Beatrice hoped against hope, that the principles of Allan as well as his friendship might yet prove unalterable.

Lady McAlpine, like all new converts, was astonishing and perplexing the Pope himself by the wild extremes of her enthusiasm about relics and images, while occupying her whole time in working dresses for the priests, in planning patterns for encaustic tiles, and in singing litanies to the Virgin; evidently in a perfect delirium of spiritual intoxication, believing everything she was told with all her might, and worshipping at random whatever a priest placed before her,-whether a wooden image, or some old instrument of torture, a decayed tooth, or the finger of somebody who perhaps was a saint, and quite as probably not. What influence such a mother had been able to obtain, with the assistance of his guardian-uncle, over Allan, no one could divine, but Lady Strath

arden wrote that he seemed sunk in the deepest melancholy, his very heart appeared withered, and he had wasted away almost to a shadow, but that the attentions of his mother, his uncle, and tutor, were so assiduous, it was impossible for any one else to become intimately acquainted with him. The only exception to this rule was one of which Lady Stratharden was not herself then aware. Her own daughter, Lady Anne Darlington, an only child, and the heiress to boundless estates, had been secretly admitted with her governess into the very inner sanctuary of Lady McAlpine's boudoir, and there, from day to day, when Lady Anne and her governess Miss Turton were supposed to be sketching in the Coloseum or picture-hunting in the Vatican, they were shut up in close conclave with Cardinal Albertini at Lady McAlpine's, or singing chants with Sir Allan, become the finest amateur performer at Rome.

Beatrice had now many friends, and even many admirers, though none to whom she gave the slightest encouragement. Clanmarina, which had formerly been as aloof from the general world as Robinson Crusoe's island, or that of Prospero and Miranda, had recently become an object of admiring curiosity to English tourists: therefore the road was occasionally strewed with horsemen, sometimes even a stray chariot whirled up to the pretty little village-inn, and the mail-gig often

enclosed a stranger come to enjoy some days' fishing in the beautiful salmon-stream. Many of these wanderers brought letters to Lady Edith, who, on the slightest hint of a recommendation from any mutual acquaintance, invited them to her most elegant and comfortable of cottages. Those who entered Heatherbrae strangers went away friends, and very frequently the old associates of Sir Evan would wander out of their way in passing through the Highlands, once more to see Lady Edith, and then the days they at first proposed to spend with her extended very frequently to weeks. Such was the charm of Lady Edith's grave, intellectual conversation contrasted with the delightful vivacity of Beatrice, that none ever left off their intercourse at Heatherbrae without regret, and it grew quite a fashion among English tourists to rave about the enchanting scenery and society of Clanmarina.

Thus Beatrice became early accustomed to intelligent conversation on the most improving of all models, with a circle of enlightened friends, living at home, and exchanging at leisure all the thoughts, facts, and feelings, which interested them at the moment; but as time advanced, she and Lady Edith could not but become sensible of an increasing change in both the manner and appearance of their favourite neighbours and associates, Mr. and Mrs. Clinton, who grew daily more reserved and silent, speaking, when they did speak, in a disparaging

tone of their own once-venerated Church. "Scottish Episcopacy is in a state of most apostolical poverty!" observed Mr. Clinton, with a very unusual soupçon of contemptuous dissatisfaction in his voice, one day, "A man of university education and classical attainments is expected to maintain the position of a gentleman, and to bestow the charities of a philanthropist on a professional income such as a land-steward, or even a butler would despise, his chapel no larger than a bathingmachine, and quite as destitute of ornament."

"Yes, Mr. Clinton,” replied Lady Edith, kindly; "and I have known one intimately these many years, who has shown what a willing purse can do for the necessities of others, even in preference to his own. Long may a blessing attend, as it has long done, on your active labours!"

"I used to build all my castles in the air with the best cards in the pack, but now the paltry details of economy, and the very limited result of single-handed efforts, are truly discouraging," continued Mrs. Clinton, almost peevishly, for she had the weak side of rather liking expense, and being rather proud of doing so. "A married clergyman must work like a galley-slave. I remember the day when mine was indeed a 'stand-at-ease' life, and when I should have despised all petty savings, but now, even a penny-stamp has become an object requiring my attention."

"Trifles attain to dignity as soon as they become duties," replied Lady Edith, encouragingly;

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your heart, as warm as Midsummer, has always hitherto seemed more than rewarded for ceaseless labour and ceaseless self-denial, by the grateful attachment of your simple-minded congregation, and by the happy fire-side at home, enlivened now by your own two beautiful boys, the finest little fellows I ever saw

"Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair.'"

"Yes! contented on the most parsimonious chop," replied Mrs. Clinton, sitting in serious contemplation of her well-worn boots; "if we indulged in a single luxury, or the most trifling extravagance, we should soon see that carpet hanging out of the window, and the sheriffs' officers taking an inventory of our very scanty effects! Indeed," added she, jestingly, but with her eyes fixed on her own dark and rather shabby gloves, "every young lady feels competent to be immoderately happy in a curacy upon nothing per annum with the man she likes, but they should all consult me before they make the attempt! How well I remember, at romantic eighteen, lounging over my grand piano and harp in my mother's splendid boudoir, after a luxurious forenoon-tea, selecting embroidered pocket-handkerchiefs for my trousseau, and watered-silk dresses, while talking to a circle of young-lady friends, of the