as I could speak, that I should not go farther to-night. I had anticipated a solitary evening; but I hope you will have too much charity to let me pass it alone."

"And for myself too," said Isabella. "I will return in half an hour, and we will drink tea together."

Isabella was even better than her word, for she returned within the half hour, unconscious how the desire of society had shortened the caresses and the solicitudes which she usually bestowed upon her infant.

Sir Charles had much to ask, and Isabella much to tell, of what had passed in their mutual world since last they had met. He had also to communicate his feats in the destruction of grouse; and to raise her imagination on the scene of the "Andes vast and deserts wild" over and through which she was to pass.

And

yet, it was not any of all this that was uppermost in Sir Charles's thought. Diverging from the last topic, to that which was really so:

“I cannot but admire Willoughby's courage," said he. "I durst not have suffered even a sister to have made such a journey alone."

"Do you call it being alone?" said Isabella, whose fondness for her husband, and Lady Rachel's remarks, made her quick to observe any impropriety that involved a reflection on him: "do you call it being alone, to travel with such a suit as I have with me? I can assure you that I am half ashamed of the trouble I give; and I think myself much obliged to Mr. Willoughby, who, to gratify my impatience to visit the mansion of his ancestors, has got over all his scruples of letting me stir without him. And he has done this too at the personal in

convenience of letting me have his own servant to attend me.”

"But why did he not come with you himself?" said Sir Charles, pressing the subject.

"For very good and substantial reasons, take my word for it," returned Isabella; "but with which I should never think of troubling you, my good friend."

There was something of archness in her smile and accent, as she said these words, that could hardly be misunderstood.

"Oh, I see you think me impertinent," returned Sir Charles. "But Heaven knows how little I am really So. And I could tell you, my dear Mrs. Willoughby

"Nothing," interrupted Isabella, "that I shall like to hear so much, as everything about Westmorland. You that you have been in the very

say

heart of its deserts. Pray tell me all their secrets. Let me hear of the height of its mountains; of the depth and clearness of its lakes. I expect to be enchanted with all these: and I cannot become too soon acquainted with their charms.”

"I wish their charms may compensate for their solitude," replied Sir Charles. "But of course you don't mean to make a very long stay in this savage region?"

"Not if I find it savage," said Isabella. "I am come to be sovereign of the castle, not its prisoner."

"Have you seen Eagle's Crag," said Sir Charles.

"No," replied Isabella; "have you seen it? Pray what kind of place is it ?"

"The place in the world where I should like to pass my life with the woman I loved," said Sir Charles

Isabella felt painfully at this moment her unprotected state, and it struck her that Sir Charles having remained all night at the same inn with herself had not been his original purpose, but had arisen from his unexpected meeting with her. Her heart beat quicker, yet she replied composedly,

"You give me no distinct notion of what I may expect at Eagle's Crag, with those we love all places are the same." As she uttered these words she rang the bell, and on the appearance of Edwards, who had received Mr. Willoughby's orders personally to wait on Isabella, she said, " Pray tell Adams that I am coming up stairs directly you will excuse me, Sir Charles; but as I keep nursery hours in the morning, I am obliged to conform to them at night."

Sir Charles was surprised, confound