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she took with gratitude, and pressed to her lips.

A day of quiet and repose renovated the travellers, and gave them renewed strength and spirits for their journey. The good priest, who expressed a lively interest in them, proposed accompanying them to Naples, and hired mules to aid their progress. They reached Naples the following night without further adventures. The priest told Herbert that Lord Hastings had scoured the mountains for months, unsuccessfully, in search of him and the banditti. The next morning, Herbert presented himself and the ring given him by his fellow captive, at the bank of the Signori Sgombri, and found that two hundred pounds had been left by a gentleman, named Colonel Llewellen, in their hands for his use, together with an order to advance more if necessary. Herbert was as much struck by the name as the stranger had seemed to be, when he had mentioned his in the cave; but merely

supposed him to be a fellow countryman, and one of the very numerous and highly respectable descendents of the illustrious Prince Llewellen, from whom all the branches of that widely spread family are supposed to spring. He thankfully took the money, and prayed for his benefactor.

He now felt, once more, really at liberty, and no doubt or fear arose to distress him. His dreams that night were peaceful and happy. They were of home and beloved friends. Gwenthlean, lovely as ever, welcomed him back, and he gave Margarita to her care. There had been no changes since he left. All the sorrows of his captivity melted into joy; or were remembered only as the torture of a mind diseased. Thus let us leave him for the present, and return to those friends who have made his dreams so happy.

CHAPTER VI.

Look, look, the summer rises in her cheeks :
A blush as hot as June, comes flooding o'er
Her too proud paleness. Burning modesty
Warms all her brow, and beauty, quite abashed,
Droops her twin stars to earthward.

• PROCTOR.

We must pass over about eight months at Glanheathyn, as slightly as we can, and walk from winter to summer, somewhat hastily. The grief naturally attendant upon Lizzie's death, was gradually wearing into a sweet and tender recollection of her earthly attractions, and a joyful satisfaction that she was now an angel in heaven. Gwenthlean, to the common eye, appeared placid, and if never gay, composed. But Clare read beyond the surface. She saw in the pale cheek, and frequently suppressed sigh, that

“ With a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat, like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief."

She saw that Mr. Grant, though an accepted suitor, was not beloved. But in vain she sought, by every tender artifice that affection could suggest, to obtain Gwenthlean's confidence. Her mother, too, was unhappy about her, and frequently asked whether her heart would accompany her hand if she married ; to which the reply she gave was always the same, “ That Mr. Grant had accepted of such love as she had to give ; and she would endeavour to do her duty by him.”

The reprieve afforded by the death of her sister, was expiring, and Mr. Grant

urged the consummation of their engagement so earnestly and apparently, with such good reason, that Gwenthlean was called upon to fix the period of their marriage, which she did, calmly, but with a heavy heart. There was no further intelligence of Herbert, and every one believed him dead. Mr. Grant never mentioned his name, and cast glances so full of inquiry upon Gwenthlean when it was spoken by others, that she could not but perceive that her secret was known to him. His conduct had been so irreproachable, to all appearance, since the fatal evening that had bound them to one another, that she could find no fault in him ; but the remembrance of the extracted promise, weighed upon her mind. · He had once alluded to it, saying that overpowering affection alone, had instigated him ; but he did not offer to release her from it, if she repented having been urged into making it, by unfortunate circum

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