revenging himself by the coolness, almost contempt, with which he treated me after that first and last conversation. But this was another species of revenge; this would be felt even deeper, yet in how different a manner.

"Oh! Miss Nell, I wonder ye are not oot of yerself in pride at having the love and good word o'such a man. He is joost a prince! And to think of me being nurse-lassie, to a young lord! My word! but Peggy Hutchinson cried her eyes oot. But there's aye thing I'll say above all, and there's nane o' us but thinks the same:-I've got back to my wee Miss Nellie, and what could be better nor that?"

"And Mrs. Blaize is well?”

Aye, a sight better than any one ever saw her afore. And the lordie sat wi' her, maist abune everybody, but Madam Bernard, and she said to him, did Mrs. Blaize-Ye were a bit spirit of good about the house, and she feared, when ye gaed away, it wad leeve the pretty cottage,' says she. Then says my lord-" Ye have had her these three years, we want her now, and cannot spare the angel of the house.'”

I was summoned now again to "the Lady;"

it was piquet time. Did I not think I might, with no untruth, plead a sad and sore heart, and betaking myself to bed, weep out the night? Or was it more fitting that I also should take my revenge? Pitch back the ball to Glynne, and give him act for act. Meet him with his own weapons, and while he tied my tongue with gratitude, loose his with happiness.

With the little Neville the task were easy; no matter if the other soil on which I had to work was stiffened with selfishness; the more need for stronger efforts, the greater my revenge. No trifle should be overlooked; no mountain should be esteemed too high; "piquet" should be a boon; while the uncongenial, ash-heaped hill of pompous folly should be removed bit by bit, if God pleased. It was well, in my heat of excited feelings and heart-burnings, that the "meek and lowly Jesus" rose before my eyes. Mightier than the mightiest in that weakness lay that strength. With God all things were possible. God grant me this boon.

Though it was for human vengeance, yet did this vengeance wear an aspect of heaven.

CHAPTER VII.

"Sounded then the happy glee
Of a revelling company!
Sprightly story, witty jest,
Hurried servant, greeted guest,

Flow of wine, and flight of cork,

Stroke of knife, and thrust of fork."

W. M. PRAED.

Br Phebe, I had a dear letter from Mrs. Bernard. She described all that passed in that visit of three days. "My little Nellie," said the letter, "Mr. Bernard and I are pleased that we yielded to the feeling in our hearts of love and faith in you. For this great man, this lord, this specimen of God's finest work loves you with reverence. You must have commanded your kinsman's esteem, Nellie, for he proved in so many ways that his desire was to elevate you in

cope

the eyes of all. The child,' said he, was forced to run away; she did her best, as far as her little judgment went, to escape her fate. But how could a little innocent being expect to with an experienced man of the world? A man without religion, with a very poor notion of morals, and nothing but a sort of contempt for man, his follies, and meannesses, to keep him straight. This man thought the child was not in earnest, that she was pettish. At that girlish age, it was expected, nay, it was even a virtue, to see her reluctant, shy. The man loved her the better for it. He only wanted to secure her as his, get her away from evil society, bear her to other countries and places. Then he would have wooed her, as one, small it is true, but most stately in the knowledge of her own truth and worth, deserved to be wooed. She should have been surrounded with the respect and homage due to a queen. Though she had pronounced vows in his favour, he would not have touched the tips of her fingers but with her permission, and he would have only valued such favours as they grew to be marks of love. He meant to have gained that love, and not demanded it, and

as a warrior fighting for life or death, he would have won it or died.' Nellie, if he is brother to him that spoke, or in anyway like him, you must be the little Undine, born without the human heart. You are indeed one of the little spirits that have no answering thoughts of earth to mingle and exchange with any other mortal heart. I explained, that you had made no complaint, said nothing, beyond what was necessary in your self-defence, being unjustly accused. He said, 'The man made dastardly use of his power, for which the punishment decreed, by God, was such as, he hoped, would fall on no head but his own.' Mr. Bernard, my dear Nellie, thinks highly of your lordly kinsman. It is not often that a man, such as he is, would take the trouble he has done to place your name clear and unsullied before us. We loved you, as you know, my child,—now we must do more than love, and wonder how the little fragile child that came so suddenly among us, should have shewn a man's firmness and determination. For to me, there seems no greater sin than to accept rash vows. To take a solemn oath, and yet not feel its sacredness. You have done right, Nellie.

VOL. III.

F