that we should obey our parents. Thy love for me causes thee to look with an evil eye upon her actions; some one, I fear, hath misled thee; but hark! there are footsteps approaching; dry thine eyes; I know thou meanest me well." She ceased, just as Lord Wardour came in sight along the winding path of the shrubbery.

The noble youth approached, and having doffed his cap and paid his morning salutation in a difficult and embarrassed manner, such as only can be done by one who is deeply in love, and in the presence of her he adores, played for a moment with the plume in his bonnet, while his face changed from crimson to almost a deadly paleness, and then he said, in a faltering voice, "Lady, I feel that I am now an intruder here. I found it difficult to gain even access to your presence; but I come as a friend, and not -" he would have said, "as a lover," but his feelings checked the utterance, and he added, "I come for the last time; may I be heard for a few moments?"

"My Lord Wardour," said the lady, with difficulty stifling her own emotions, "I would rather that my mother was present at this hour" she

interview; but at this early hour

paused, as if unable to proceed.

"Hear him, my dear lady," said Amy, “there is nothing but honour in the soul of Henry Wardour. I would trust thy life to his keeping."

"And I would guard it better than my own," added the noble youth, then blushed, and looked on the ground, as if ashamed of what he had said. "But I come to speak with thee on matters which deeply concern thine own welfare. As for myself," continued he, in a melancholy voice, "I care not what may befall me; but it would throw a brightness around my last dark hour only to hear of thy happiness, though certain that it was shared by another."

"Oh talk not thus, my dear

my lord,"

said the lady, checking herself, for her own

heart pleaded too deeply in his favour.

"I

have ever loved thee as if thou hadst been my very brother-more I must not-more I dare not do. It is my mother's wish that I should not see thee-forget thee I cannot-not even at her bidding. Memory can never be subdued; and although our very religions are dissimilar, we both worship the same God, with the same sincerity of purpose. But, oh, Henry! seek to know no more. I am not my own keeper. Seek not to awaken those feelings anew which I have attempted to eradicate, by tears, and prayer, and deep penitence. I must notcannot listen to thee. If thou hast any pity for me, oh leave me! Alas! I feel that" She threw herself on the bosom of her faithful attendant, to hide her fast-falling tears.

But we will not prolong the scene; for what danger could Lord Wardour warn her of when he himself knew not in what shape it would come? Could he advise her not to enter into marriage with Lord Dudley, without making it appear that he was in no wise interested in breaking off the alliance? Could he warn her

of the ambition of Northumberland, and shew her any other way to escape from his toils than by rejecting his son in marriage. None! none ! All these thoughts came in upon him at once, like an overwhelming current, and then were as speedily swept away when he heard her own sweet lips confess that he was still the chosen. one of her heart, and that whoever might obtain her hand, he had still a deep share in her affections. He hurried away, like one beside himself; and oh!-dreadful vortex into which disappointed lovers plunge!—he applied those lips which but a few minutes before had imprinted a last parting kiss on the purest hand in Christendom, to Ninion Saunders' filthy wine flasks.

CHAPTER VI.

"Oh how wretched

Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to-
That sweet aspect of princes and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have."
SHAKSPEARE.

WE might now occupy a goodly number of our pages with the wooing of Lord Dudley, and the subtle arguments brought forth by the ambitious Duchess of Suffolk to hasten the Lady Jane's marriage;—or fill up a large space with descriptions of how the fair victim wept in private when she recalled the image of Wardour; and how poor Amy, while she endeavoured to console her beautiful young mistress, too often awakened thoughts and feelings which called up in more vivid colours, the forlornness of her situation;-and that still, amid