after a cautious and very suspicious inspection of the intruder, Ponto stretched out his noble limbs at Mr. Carre's feet, as if to protect him, while turning his canine eyes, flashing defiance, on Father Eustace, who looked unalterably pleased, happy, and affable, while, with an almost jovial air, he sat down to the only meal that had ever been given with a grudge at Daisybank.

It was time very soon for Bessie to return home, therefore her young lover, leaving his father to act the unwilling host to the most complaisant of guests, gladly escorted her back, and observed with delight that no sooner was Bessie beyond reach of the priest's eye, than she became nearly the same animated, happy, intelligent, and affectionate girl, who had so long continued the object of his honest and devoted attachment. They spoke now of plans for the future, with many a gay jest and joyous anticipation, while Bessie's countenance was full of arch but bashful pleasure. Every hope of Robert's future life was gilded by the prospect of being united to his first and only love, as much in principle as in feeling, as much in the prospects of a better life as in the joys of that which seemed now before them. Hours appeared like nothing to lovers so unboundedly happy, and the shades of evening were fast closing around the cottage of Bessie's mother, where Robert had stepped in for

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a single moment," and stayed four hours, when

a message reached him, brought by a breathless cow-herd, that his old father had been seized during dinner with a stroke of palsy, and lay dangerously ill at Daisy bank, where no one was in the house but Father Eustace and the servants.

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My father! my dear, good, excellent father! this day's work has been too much for him!" exclaimed Robert, covering his face with his hands, in deep and solemn distress, as Bessie tearfully accompanied her afflicted lover to the garden gate. "I saw he was frightfully agitated this morning. No man dreads a Popish aggression more than he; and to meet with it in our Chief's own family, and in our own quiet home, has been too much for his old nerves."

Bessie had become pale as death; the words which fluttered up to her lips could not gain utterance, and again she did not look up nor speak, when her agitated lover bade her a hasty but affectionate adieu. Robert gazed at his beloved Bessie's altered expression with astonishment, for her looks had become perfectly untranslatable and perplexing. Every vestige of her recent cheerfulness had vanished; but that of course he could not wonder at, under the shock of his own affliction ; yet there seemed a sudden chill towards himself in her manner, the impression of which, as he hurried homewards, filled him with perplexity, and occupied his thoughts more than the kind-hearted

son could justify to himself, when he considered the alarming and most unexpected seizure of his much-loved father. During his whole walk with Bessie, the young lover had felt an unaccountable sensation of disappointment. Bessie had not

shown all her former interest in the welfare of his favourite horses, or in his success at the ploughing match, which would always hitherto have lighted up her eyes into a blaze of eager delight, and she had decidedly avoided speaking of the coming election, though he had wished to open his whole heart to her, on the grief with which he had heard of Sir Allan, his own long-loved landlord, being about to head the Popish party. Robert let fall a few impatient exclamations on the subject while he proceeded. They fell from him thicker and faster, as the thought of Father Eustace's morning walk with Bessie forced itself on his thoughts, and his hand grasped the lock of Daisybank house, before his composure was quite restored. When Robert hurriedly arrived at home, he noiselessly opened the door, stole on tiptoe into his father's bed-room, and found old Carre only half unconscious, but looking with vague imbecile perplexity at Father Eustace, who knelt by his side, mumbling Latin prayers, in a low monotonous voice, and holding a small gilt cross to the lips of the feeble unresisting sufferer. Under ordinary circumstances Robert might have performed some wild and frantic action

to testify his indignant rage at Father Eustace's intrusion; but, overcome by the grief of seeing his ówn father's idiot look, he silently sat down, and plunging his face into his hands, burst into tears of almost insupportable anguish.

Not a sound was in the room, not a whisper for several minutes, but Father Eustace having muttered a Latin benediction at the bed-side, placed his ear close to the lips of old Carre, as if listening for something the patient had replied to him, and then pretending actually to have an answer, he said aloud in a promissory tone of friendly interest, "Yes! yes! certainly! make your mind easy! I shall return to-morrow, as you desire it! Depend upon seeing me.'

The maid who stood beside her master's bed seemed astonished, for she had heard nothing, and the old man looked up with a strange expression of terror and vacuity, but Father Eustace glided out of the house before Robert could speak the words that were rushing in an angry torrent to his lips; for it appeared perfectly evident that his father was then utterly incapable of either forming a wish, or, even if he did, of expressing it.

"Remember," said Robert earnestly, almost savagely, to the attendant maid, " that man must never darken this door again! If Father Eustace calls, as he threatened, send instantly for me

whereever I am, and he shall be hurled out of this house!"

The servant gladly assented, and at these words a gleam of satisfaction appeared on the old man's face for a moment. He feebly held out his hand to Robert with a smile of affection, and pointed to the large old Bible, which stood in its usual place, but before the young man could bring it to him his face had relapsed into its former expression of vacant idiotcy.