Elizabeth threw her arms around her friend, and wept with her, but could find no subject of consolation.

"Who is this aunt of Dunallan's?" asked she at length.

"She is the most unfortunate human creature I ever heard of," replied Catharine, "she has lost her husband, and her whole family of six children. She is talked of as a good sort of woman, but a religious enthusiast. I suppose, poor soul, her misfortunes have affected her understanding, and I feel that I ought to pity her. Yet, what a companion! Dunallan is equally gloomy and enthusiastic. Oh! my father, what a cruel choice! As he says of me, he is the complete opposite of what I could ever find it possible to love. But here comes Martin, and I must bid adieu to this subject. My heart feels relieved by conversing with you, my own Elizabeth; but, perhaps, if I am not to appear very unhappy to my father, it will be necessary to avoid in future such softening intercourse."

Elizabeth agreed; and embracing each other, as if in giving up this soothing confidence, they had given up their last consolation, Elizabeth left her young friend with the wondering Martin, who had come earlier than usual to call her lady on this eventful day.

Martin had suspected, however, that Mr. Dunallan's arrival was no cause of joy to her young

mistress. Catharine's early rising, and the tears in her eyes, confirmed her suspicions, and made her less unwilling to agree to her lady's determination to wear a very plain morning dress.

Catharine had no desire to please Mr. Dunallan. If she could have concealed her face, or deprived it of the power of expression, she would have been more satisfied. She had an additional cause of uneasiness in the numerous spectators who must witness her feelings. Lord Dunallan, from a dread of his daughter's gentle submissive looks, and melancholy sweetness of manners, which were now the only means she used to induce him to pity her; and perhaps from a dread of his own feelings, when about to part from a child he loved next to his family and name, had invited the neighbouring families in succession for several weeks. To none of them had Catharine imparted her dislike to her approaching marriage; and though the younger part wondered at their beautiful companion thus agreeing, like one of the royal family to be united to a person she had scarcely ever seen; and the elder envied the father who had so submissive a child; yet both ascribed this submission to pride, and the same love of family so remarkable in Lord Dunallan. Catharine had perceived this, and the idea of their observing all her actions thus prejudiced, chilled and discouraged her; yet she resolved not to transfer their disapprobation from herself to her father by the slightest hint of the truth.

CHAPTER II.

LORD DUNALLAN was alone in the breakfast room when Catharine entered. He received her with tenderness; kissed her forehead; and pressed her hastily to his bosom; glanced at her pale countenance; then saying he had forgot something, (she did not hear what,) he left her but she heard him sigh deeply, which brought tears into her eyes, and confirmed her determination to conceal from him and every one else the dejection she felt.

Elizabeth soon joined her, and then Mrs. Lennox, her son George, and Rose his sister: the St. Clairs of the Isle, Sir Archibald and Lady Cameron of Glenmore, their son, and two daugh

ters.

Every eye during breakfast was turned towards Catharine. Elizabeth endeavoured to divert the attention of the party, by proposing plans of amusement for the day, and this in some degree succeeded.

"Miss Dunallan has expressed no preference," said young St. Clair at last. "Miss Dunallan, I know you are fond of riding. Shall we ride ?”

"Oh no! dear Miss Dunallan," exclaimed Rose Lennox, "do consent to the sailing party." "But if Catharine prefers riding," said Miss Cameron.

"We can ride first," replied Catharine, “ and then sail. The day is charming; we shall have time for both, if we order the horses immediately."

The horses were soon ready; and the younger visitors of the party set of, all gay, and in expectation of enjoyment. She only was sad, whom each thought had most the power of being happy.

Young St. Clair assisted Catharine to mount her horse. He had observed the dejection, which she in vain attempted to conceal, and his manner showed her that he had. He put the reins into her hand, but laid his arm on the neck of the horse. "He is very gentle," said he,

stroking him.

"Yes," replied Catharine," he obeys the slightest touch of the reins."

St. Clair looked earnestly but tenderly at Catharine, and said in a low voice, "You, Miss Dunallan, will always find it so with all whom you condescend to guide, or lead,-or love," added he, in a still lower voice.

Catharine looked languidly away, bowed coldly, and rode on.

Catharine had willingly agreed to the wishes

of her young friends, because she hoped she would, while riding or sailing, forget herself and her griefs; but though the day was charming, and her companions increased in gaiety, she could not banish thought, and became every moment more sad.

The lake was smooth, and the air soft and balmy; the surrounding scenery even more than usually beautiful; yet Catharine thought only of her approaching meeting with her hated cousin ; and the time they continued to sail seemed tedious, though she dreaded its termination. At last they landed at a short distance from the castle. St. Clair offered his arm to Catharine. Elizabeth walked on her other side, and on turning round a part of the wood, they came in sight of the house, at the entrance to which a travelling carriage had just stopped. Catharine looked eagerly towards it, until she saw a gentleman, of a tall and graceful figure, alight rather slowly from it, and her father advance to meet him. She supposed it was Dunallan, and becoming as pale as death, she involuntarily shrunk back. St. Clair, who felt her tremble violently, intreated her to sit down on a garden seat near where they stood. "We have had such a fatiguing day," said he, "I am surprised at any lady having strength for such exertions." Catharine trembled so excessively, that she was obliged for a few moments to comply with his request. Annoyed, however, by