which impels me be not quite pure-if it induces me to conceal my husband's attachment, in order to prevent myself being known as the scorned and forgotten one, who tried, with too well-known love, to chain the man who possessed her heart-mother, if this should be my motive ?"

"It is more difficult than we think, my child, to control the motives of our acts, and to keep them free from selfishness. We cannot here attain that glorious state of mind which combines all that is right in deeds and thoughts; the mere capability of desiring this, seems only lent to us, to prevent our falling too far short of it. I therefore regard as natural your fear of being influenced by any inferior motive. The case which claims our attention may easily excite fears for the purity of our intentions: perhaps even God's goodness purposely excites within us such considerations, in order to preserve us from the security which corrupts us; for certainly those precautions which, with the best intentions, we are obliged to take for the deception of others, are a problem difficult to solve. Let us now separate it seems to me that you need repose."

Both ladies attempted to rise, but the elder only quitted her seat. That excitement which, until now, had sustained the duchess, had lost its influence as her anxiety decreased; her physical exhaustion became great in proportion to the alleviation of her mind, and she sank back without a sound.

The old duchess now exercised all her presence of mind. Con quering her own emotion, she hastened to summon Morton; but the assistance of this faithful attendant was not sufficient, and Stanloff was sent for. He declared it to be a case requiring the greatest care and the strongest remedies, and he desired that she should be taken immediately to bed. For many hours she lay insensible; but at last, after the opening of a vein, she awoke from her torpor.

It had been impossible to conceal her condition from the inhabitants of the castle; and her children and Lord Archibald, who did not neglect to offer a measured sympathy, were speedily assembled in the room adjoining her chamber, awaiting the opinion of Stanloff, who, with the attendants, was busied in the invalid's apartment. The young duke was deadly pale; his lips were compressed; and

his, agony showed itself in his features, as he struggled to suppress it. He appeared lost to all around him; he turned away from his sisters, who were weeping in Lady Melville's arms; and he had no eyes even for her. Lord Archibald sat by his afflicted mother, holding her cold hands in his; and, embarrassed by a scene in which he did not feel himself at ease, cast now and then an anxious glance on the old lady, who, in patience and resignation, awaited the decisive moment.

The evening had set in, and the forms rising only indistinctly out of the dark space, increased the depression of those who were watching. Lady Melville, at Stanloff's request, had just led the sisters away, when the curtains were drawn back. A manly figure entered, and, without being interrupted by those present, advanced with hasty steps to the bed of the duchess. He seized Stanloff's arm, and those who could see him guessed the questions which were asked. In the next moment he clasped the young duke to his heart.

"Richmond is come!" joyfully exclaimed Lord Archibald to his mother, who now raised her eyes, and beheld the two brothers in an embrace, which grief for their mother appeared to render nearly indissoluble.

"I have killed ber, Richmond!" cried the duke. "I have brought new sorrow upon her already afflicted heart. I have taken my mother from you."

Incomprehensible as these words were to Richmond, he saw in them merely the alarm natural to the present moment, and he answered gently,

Compose yourself, Robert. Stanloff assures me of her safety: he does not think her in danger. Let us send away all who are collected here; for Stanloff wishes her to be kept in perfect quiet, and none of them are in a condition to enable her to obtain it."

These words were suddenly interrupted by a sound from the bed, and the name of Richmond was pronounced in the gentlest tone of love. Instantly he knelt by the side of the duchess, who was gradually awaking from her death-like sleep, and her eyes, dimmed by weakness, sought the favourite. Her weak heart was revived

1

by his voice; and the delicate traces of a smile, with which she strove to reward him, banished at least the remains of the struggle which had convulsed her features, though her attempt to speak succeeded only in pronouncing his name.

Stanloff, who was pleased to see this expression of feeling, hastened nevertheless to shorten it. The duchess consented to remain quiet, and Richmond disappeared through a well-known door which led to Morton's room.

Lord Archibald and Stanloff had much trouble to remove the young duke, who, incited by his anguish, wished to remain to assist the attendants. He finally yielded to the earnest words of his grandmother, who, resorting to unusual sternness, asked him whether that could be called love which made him, by an obstinate resistance, run the risk of doing harm?

When the family returned to the saloon, each felt the depressed tone of the other so much, that displeasure yielded to compassion; and these two, as well as the rest, looked anxiously towards the door, in the hope of Richmond's entrance: for him all hearts beat; and the impatience of his sisters, who had been left by the Lady Mary, was raised to the highest degree. But they were compelled to defer, for the present, this demonstration of their affection; for Otway now appeared, and, with the accustomed ceremonies, informed the old lady, in the absence of his mistress, of the approaching arrival of guests, whom two pages had been sent forward to

announce.

The old duchess, seconded by the young duke, gave permission for the entrance of the pages, and Lord Archibald slipped off in search of Richmond, for whom he felt an impatient longing. He was anxious to quit this atmosphere of excited feelings, and to return to that cool empire of reason which was more consonant to his nature. But he was disappointed in his object; for Richmond's heart, after it had once given way to its oppression, impelled him to discharge his duties towards the rest of the family, especially as he had communications to make respecting the approaching guests, whom he had passed on the road.

Entering the saloon by a door opposite to that at which the pages

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appeared, he greeted those around him, and hastened to introduce these two young noblemen to his grandmother and his brother. The youths then stepped forward, and thus addressed the lady:

"Our master, the Earl Ormond, and his honourable companion, the Lord Membroke, have had the honour to be commissioned by his Royal Highness the illustrious Prince of Wales, to express his deepest sympathy in the affliction of the noble family of his ever lamented friend, the late Duke of Nottingham; and in this high capacity the lords, our masters, approach this castle, requesting through us, their pages of honour, a gracious reception.

The old duchess, turning to the young duke, replied—" Welcome these gentlemen, my grandson, in the name of your mother and your family. As regards myself, although I rejoice at the arriva! of these distinguished lords, I stand so much in need of repose that I must for to-day deny myself the honour of making their acquaintance."

She then bade farewell to all, and, attended by her granddaughters and their ladies, left the saloon.

Sir

The young duke dismissed the pages with flattering words. Edward Ramsey, with a numerous suite, was sent to meet the travellers; whilst Otway, with a train of servants, hastened to prepare the rooras destined for their occupation.

The young duke was not in the mood to perform the duties of hospitality with that cheerfulness which assures the guests of a hearty welcome, and which cannot be superseded by any outward adherance to forms which lack their confirmation in the host's manner. Richmond, struck by his brother's appearance, now that they were left alone for a second time, begged him to be no longer uneasy respecting the health or life of his mother; for Stanloff, whom he had met on his way to the saloon, had assured him that the quiet and sweet sleep into which she had fallen would most probably lead to her perfect recovery, and that her situation was more perplexing than dangerous.

'Nevertheless, Richmond," said the duke, "this occurrence fills me with regret, and throws me into a chaos of contending feelings.

I fear lest the wishes which I expressed a few hours ago, and which I maintained in spite of her opposition, have caused this painful attack, for she was previously exhausted by grief and sorrow for my poor father's death.”

"How can that be?" inquired Richmond quickly: "I do not understand this. How can my affectionate mother find in your request, which may perhaps be somewhat annoying or difficult to grant, anything to cause such exhaustion as this, which is purely physical, and appears to me to be the result of her late affliction?”

"No, no," replied the duke. "She listened to the strongest wish of my heart with horror, and thereby made me the most unhappy man upon earth."

"I do not comprehend you, my dear brother," cried Richmond, roused from his composure, and perceiving that there was something concealed, which he did not understand. He paused, as if certain of receiving that confidence which his brother had never refused him. But this time it was not so: the duke was silent, and was so evidently embarrassed, that Richmond's attention was more strongly excited. He was about to ask him some question, in order to render the communication more easy, when the duke took his hand, and pressing it between his own, said, with a trembling voice,

"Be my protector, my mediator, between this heart and the world, which is at enmity with my feelings. Richmond, I love! This wonderful passion has seized me for the first time, and already have I met with opposition and persecution; although I defy the world to produce to me, out of its choicest treasures, an object more worthy to create this feeling."

Tell me,

"Robert," said Richmond, "what has happened? what has now excited any dislike here to a connexion by which you would fulfil the wishes of your family, and which your later conduct has so confirmed that you are now looked upon by the others as their nearest relation."

"Good God!" cried the duke, pressing his forehead with his hands, and speaking with increasing vehemence, "what do you mean? To whom do you refer? Of what obligations do you avail yourself, in order to disappoint me of the consolatior. of your sympathy?