breach, and then, if evil arise, the man gets the blame, while I retreat in safety."

"Then the Lady Frances would take one of the other sex as a shield?"

"Yes, Constance; they would do as well to be shot at as ourselves, you know."

"Ah, Frances, you are no true woman, unless, if there were real danger, you would thrust yourself between it and the life a thousand times more precious than your own. Suppose, for instance, that sudden danger menaced the life

Hush, dear Constantia; the enough. It is easier to sacrifice demanded by affection, than to gencc.'

idea of such an event is life when the sacrifice is resign one selfish indul

"Ah! because, in the first case, we gratify ourselves; in the second, others."

"You are a mental chemist, Constance: but here comes the maid called Barbara, with hoods and cardinals, signifying that the dew is falling, though we feel it not."

"I sought you, mistress," said Barbara, "all over the house, for Sir Willmott Burrell advised me that he wished to speak with you in the oak parlour, if it so please you, or in the library; my honoured master was present."

"Did my father, too, want me?"

No, madam; he said he would go to his chamber, for a little, before the evening meal."

The young ladies, followed by Barbara, entered the house, and, as Frances Cromwell pressed Constantia's hand, she felt it clammy and chilling cold; she would have spoken, but, while arranging the necessary words, her friend, with a more than usually dignified deportment, entered the parlour. It was a dark, dim room, the frettings and ornaments of black carved oak.

"Tell Sir Willmott Burrell I await him here," she said to Barbara, while passing the threshold.

Frances Cromwell, over whose mind a feeling of terror was imperceptibly stealing, would have remained, but Constance intimated that she would receive Burrell alone.

CHAPTER XIII.

--I am sworn brother now
To grim Necessity; and he and I
Will keep a league till death.

SHAKSPEARE.

"My blood seems to curdle in my veins," murmured Constance, as she rubbed the palm of one hand against the back of the other;" my very blood seems to curdle in my veins, and a shadow, as of the Vampire's wings, is over me. But why is this? Is God less present with me here than beneath the heavenly atmosphere I have just now breathed?" And then she uttered a few words of prayer so earnestly, that Burrell had entered the room before she was aware of his presence.

"You are not well," he observed, seating himself in a chair beside that into which she had sunk: "I hope I do not disturb you unpleasantly. You keep watch to anxiously by your father's couch."

"I am better now," she replied; "but that of which you speak, my thought of the living and the dead, although it may have somewhat touched my health, has been my happiest duty."

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Perhaps you would rather hear what I have to say tomorrow," he observed, a momentary feeling of sympathy forcing itself upon his mind, as he noticed her white lip and still whiter cheek.

“I pray you, sir,” she replied, proudly, "to proceed; I am as ready now as I can be on the morrow to listen to aught it may be your pleasure to advance. Your observations, if

it please you now."

"I have no 'observations' to offer, Mistress Cecil-may I say Constance? for so I used to call you in the early days of our betrothment-though I have much to request. I confess, I have felt hurt and aggrieved at the small show of courtesy you have vouchsafed me; but, as I believe that sorrow and an habitual reserve have wrought this manner, I do not blame, though I regret it deeply. The time, I hope, fair lady, is not far distant when you will ratify my claim to your hand; then the devotedness of my future life-the entireness of my attachment-the depth of my love

"Sir Willmott Burrell," interrupted Constantia, "the grass upon my mother's grave is not yet green; and would you talk of love?"

For a moment the Knight was silent.

Reasons-reasons that I will explain hereafter, make me exceedingly desire that the contract should be immediately fulfilled. Nay, Lady, do not start and shudder," he continued, taking her hand, that hung listlessly and without motion within his grasp; 66 even should you not love as I do, affection will make you all mine own, within a little time."

"Believe it not, Sir Willmott," said Constantia, at length disengaging her hand; "I can never love you."

Men have been unaccustomed, in all ages, to hear simple truths, of such a description, declared in so simple a manner. Ladies rant and protest that they abhor and abominate—or they weep, and shriek, and call the gentleman odious, or horrid, or some such gentle name; which the said gentleman perfectly understands to mean-any thing he pleases; but Constantia's perfect truth, the plain earnestness of that brief sentence, carried conviction with it; and the handsome Burrell paced three or four times the length of the oak par lour, before he could sufficiently bring his mortified feelings under necessary subjection: he then resumed his seat.

"I think otherwise; a woman can but require devoted affection, constant watchfulness, and tender solicitude. All, all this will be yours. Besides, a daughter of the house of Cecil would not break faith. I could command your hand-I only solicit it."

"Sir Willmott, you well know, that when the unhappy contract was entered into, I was of tender age; too young, indeed, to comprehend its nature. Ought you in honour to urge it on me, when I frankly tell you by word of mouth, what my demeanour must have informed you long, long since, that I can never love you?"

"You have said it once, Lady; and the sentence cannot be pleasant to the ears of your affianced husband. The turmoils of the times, and the service I so largely owed to the Protector, have called me much from home; and though my heart lingered here, I was forced away by duty to the State: surely you would not love me less because it was rigidly performed?"

"You would not wish me your wife," said Constance, in a faltering tone, resolving to make trial of Sir Willmott's generosity, while her strength seemed to rise with her honest purpose-" "You would not wish me your wife; for not only do I not love you, but-I love-another."

Now, Sir Willmott Burrell did not start from his chair, nor did he pace up and down the polished floor-he fixed his eyes upon Constantia, as if he would have read within her soul who she loved; but the expression gradually and gradually changed, from a deep and perilous curiosity, to one of firm resolve, until, drawing his breath between his set teeth, so strongly as to produce a hissing sound, he said, slowly and deliberately, but in a restrained tone, as if the voice came from the fiend within him

"I am sorry for it, Constantia Cecil; for it cannot prevent your being mine-mine-and, mine only, and for ever!"

Constantia rose slowly from her seat, and said, in a firm voice, "I did not come here to suffer insult, sir.”

She walked across the room with so dignified a step, that she had nearly reached the door, before Burrell acquired sufficient courage to stay her departure. He laid his hand on her arm as she touched the lock, but she shook it off as coolly, yet as firmly, as the apostle threw from him the viper into the flames at Melita. Burrell, however, had too much at stake tamely to relinquish his purpose. He spoke in a constrained voice, and said

"I entreat you to remain; if it be not for your own good, it will be for your father's that you do so."

The mention of her father's name at once commanded her attention. She desired Burrell to speak on, without, however, resuming her scat. He paused for so considerable a time that she at length observed:

"I wait, Sir Willmott, and will wait patiently, if it be necessary but methinks your silence now is as uncourteous as your speech a brief while since."

"It is because I feel for you, Mistress Cecil,-feel for you acutely, that I thus hesitate. I would spare you the pain I know my words must inflict; and, therefore, once more, calmly, but energetically, implore you to consent to the immediate fulfilment of the contract existing between

"This is trifling, sir. I desire that you suffer me to pass forth. I might have known you had nothing to say that concerned my father; and, as to myself, if you could be mean enough, under such circumstances, to accept my hand, I cannot be base enough to give it."

"A fine sentence !" exclaimed Burrell, sneeringly. “I make bold to tell you, Lady, I care not so much as you may imagine for your affections, which I know you have sufficient principle to recall, and bestow upon the possessor of that fair hand whoever he may be. Nay, look not so wrath

ful, for I know that, which would make your proud look quail, and the heiress of Cecil rejoice that she could yet become the wife of Sir Willmott Burrell!"

Constantia trembled. She had never before listened to such language, and she felt there must be something appalling in the motive that could give it utterance. Although her hand rested on the massive lock of the door, she had not power to turn the handle. If looks could wither, the Master of Burrell would have shrunk before her gaze; yet he bore her indignant frown with more audacity than he could have believed he possessed.

"If your communication concerns my father, speak, sir; if not"-she paused, and he took up the sentence—

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If not, Constantia casts me off for ever! Yet," he added in a tone of insulting pity, "I would spare your feelings, for you have been a most affectionate child."

"Sir," interrupted Constance, "I hope I am too true a daughter to hear those taunts with patience: your insinuations I despise, and I defy you to utter an accusation against him that could summon a tint of crimson to my cheek!"

"But I could speak that which would make the red cheek pale, Lady-What think you of-of-of MURDER?"

Constantia's eye gleamed for a moment like a meteor, and then it became fixed and faded; her form assumed the rigidity of marble, and at each respiration her lips fell more and more apart. The villain became alarmed, and, taking her hand, would have led her to her seat; but his touch recalled her to herself: she darted from him to the centre of the room, and there, her arm extended, her fine head thrown back, every feature, as it were, bursting with indignation, she looked like a youthful priestess denouncing vengeance on a sinful world.

"If I could curse," she said, "you should feel it heavily; but the evil within you will do its own work, and my soul be saved from sin. Away! away! and you thought to fright me with that horrid sound! My dear, dear father!"

"I declare before Heaven," interrupted Burrell," it is to save him that I speak! The damning proofs of his guilt are within my hold. If you perform the contract, neither tortures nor death shall wring them from me; if you do not-mark me-I will be revenged!"

"Silly, wicked that I was," exclaimed Constance, “not to cominand you before him instantly, that the desperate lie might be sent back into your throat, and choke you with its venom! Come with me to my father!-Ah, foul coward! you shrink, but you shall not escape!—To my father instantly!