thou did'st not mark the brave gentleman and his train that rode out of the old gate as we came round the shoulder of the fell? Ah! Mistress Edith, thou's none so still, for all thy sad apparel, as to take no note of young Sir Philip, and his serving-men behind him."

"I thought no one lived here," said Edith; "and I never saw Sir Philip, dame, that I should know yonder horseman was he."

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Nay, I say not thou knowest," said the shepherd's wife; "but prithee make thy pace slower, Mistress Edith, for my breath fails me. I had a light foot enow in my day; alack, but that bides not forever! But, as I say, it is e'en as well that we be behind yonder gallant, for an thou knowest him not, it is as well for thee; and thou might'st, if thou did'st see him near at hand; and there is a wrong done between his house and thine, Mistress Edith, that it would but grieve thee to hear of. Alas, thy blessed mother! Well, surely it is a dark world, for yonder proud lady hath all she lacks, and does naught in this earth, but waste and spend, and harden the heart of her; and the other gentle face is in its grave many a year ago. Well-a-day !"

"What is that, Dame Dutton?" asked Edith, eagerly.

"An thy father told thee not, Mistress Edith," said the Dame, "it is none of my business to tell thee; and forsooth it is just and right that there should be little mentioning of old wrongs among folk that strive to fear God; for thou knowest the carnal mind is fain to have something against its neighbor, and it is not aye we do well to be angry. He was but an ill body, that prophet Jonah, that could set up his face to say the like."

"But I am not angry, dame," said Edith. this-tell me about my mother."

"Tell me

"Ay, and what could I tell thee of her, sweet soul, but what was good and pleasant? She was like thee, Mistress Edith-nay, for that matter, the other lady was well favored enow. Thou could'st see at a glance they were gentlefolks, and come of good blood, but they were none like each other, for all their kindred. Alack! folk thought it a poor lot for her, when she, wedded the minister, but it might have been a good lot if there had been no bad laws. Well, we know not who may be hearing us, but this is a distressed land and a dark; and I would there might come better times in my day, for it's hard upon old folk to have to go dozens of miles ere they can hear a preaching, and Raaf gets to limp now when the road's long, and I'm sadly hampered with the breath. But any way we may be thankful that there's no word of such a scourge as that plague coming hereaway, or of us canny Cumberland folk being cut down upon the hills, as they do the Scots. But we mind our troubles more than our mercies!"

CHAPTER II.

"When I view abroad both regiments,
The world's and thine,

Thine clad with simpleness and sad events,
The other, fine-

Full of glory and gay weeds,

Brave language-braver deeds!”

GEORGE HERBERT.

THE Carlisle hostel was full of guests-a singular circumstance-for the quaint and humble suburban inn was out of the ordinary road of travelers. The landlady, an honest, ruddy, bustling dame, with a strong leaning to the persecuted Presbyterians, hastily led Edith and her guardian up-stairs into a little bright bed-chamber, whose latticed window looked out through embowering foliage, over the well-filled garden, upon the road they had just traversed.

""Tis but an homely place," said Mrs. Philpot, "to put a gentlewoman in; but, forsooth, Mistress Edith, we be often put to our wit's-end that live in a public way, for there's young Sir Philip Dacre below, with all his servingmen-and wherefore he came hither I wot not, for we're none such light folks as to put up with the ways of wild young gallants like him, that would have their gentle blood cover all. No, no, says I, we'll have none of your gay

doings here-you must e'en tramp off to old Roger Whittaker's that never wants room for such as would do themselves or other folk a mischief. A plague on him! it's e'en him, and such like as him, that has driven canny customs from the Border; and the curate no less-and that's a meet place for a minister-drinking and dribbling at his ingle-side, morn and even. Let's have done with them, I say! they're a worse set than the old priests with their mass-books, and their women's garments !"

"And my father," said Edith, "is he not here ?"

"And in truth, Mistress Edith, with my clatter I had nigh forgotten the message the good gentleman gave me. He will be here ere noon; it is ten of the clock now; and if thou wilt content thee in this poor place I'll bring thee something thou'st not tasted afore since thou cam'st to Cumberland; and somewhat to comfort thee also, Dame Dutton, though I reckon thou hast no sweet tooth for dainties any more than mysel'; but I'll have thee a comfortable snack afore thou'st gotten thy hood undone. Sit thee down, dame, thou's kindly welcome."

"And it's little business Sir Philip Dacre can have in Joe Philpot's hostel, I trow," said Dame Dutton, suspiciously, as the landlady left the little apartment. "Did'st never see this gallant, Mistress Edith? I did fancy there were lace and feathers at the great window below; but my old eyes serve me not as they once did-and certain there were idle grooms enow; but I marked not the Dacre coat. Thou would'st see who sat at the great window, sweetheart?"

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Nay, truly, Dame Dutton," said Edith: "I marked no great window, for I was eager to see my father."

"That wert thou! t'would be a false heart that doubted thee," said the old woman, repentant of her momentary suspicious fear. "Yet I know naught ill of the lad, for all I speak, if it were not that he is his mother's son-and, lo! you now, Mistress Edith, my hood hath been loosened these five minutes, and there is no tidings of Dame Philpot and her good cheer."

"She will be here anon, dame," said Edith, opening the lattice.

Standing where she did, she could see a corner of the court-yard of the inn, busy as it was, beyond its wont. The great window, where sat the unconscious object of Dame Dutton's fears, was immediately below.

She had been standing thus for some time, conscious of the sweet air and sunshine, and vacantly watching the figures in the yard, when a cavalier, dressed in the fantastic fashion of the time, rode briskly in at the gate. His rich dress was travel-soiled, his attendants looked dusty and fatigued, and calling hurriedly for refreshments, he waited the return of the servants who ran to obey his orders, as if he did not mean to alight.

"Ha, Sir Jasper " exclaimed some unseen person below, whose voice had a finer modulation than belonged to the Border. "What makes you so far from town?”

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From town!" echoed the new comer; "in what hyperborean region have you hidden yourself, gentle Sir Philip, that your happy ignorance needs to ask? From town! why the town itself, I fear, ere long will take to traveling: the matter is who shall get furthest away in these days."

"A marvel!" said Sir Philip Dacre, laughing. "I fan