which mounted rapidly to Catherine's countenance, he flattered himself that he could discover, at least, an indecision, which might by degrees be worked up into resentment and rejection. Catherine's heart was on the rack of uncertainty; but the more she felt conscious of doubt, the more she felt anxious to disguise it from all eyes. (There is no love without some slight tincture of jealousy and she felt for the first time the pains of the most imperious and mingled of all the passions.

CHAPTER V.

Let me kiss off those tears, O, beauteous tears,
If shed by filial love, if shed for absence.
Come to my arms, my girl! Of all the pangs
That lurked beneath the rugged brow of war,
When glaring day was closed, and hushed the camp,
Oh, then, amid ten thousand other cares,
Those stung the keenest that remembered thee.
Thompson.

MRS. COURTNEY, elated by her fashionable alliance, and with two daughters still to be disposed of for the benefit and honour of the peerage, had plunged at this period into

more resolute dissipation. Still handsome, though unhappily not within that period in which lovely ladies grow yet more lovely, no artist in the great science of good looks could exert a happier ingenuity in repelling the advances of Time, the only advances that women of a certain rank are presumed to think of repelling.

A natural spirit of activity, which to the ruder eye often seems a talent for affairs; a dignified and striking exterior, which seemed made for the palmy heights of life; and an iron heart within; were the qualifications by which, having once attained a place in fashionable life, she held it as of right. The attempts to dispute her right were few; for her sarcasm was bitter, and her resentment was avowedly quick, unsparing, and impla cable. She was hated, and was perfectly conscious of it; but like the Roman tyrant, her eye seemed to say, "Let them hate, while they fear."

Yet, in all her state, there was one anxiety that envenomed the whole triumph. Her income, however dexterously stretched, was stretched beyond its strength, and the time must come when the struggle must be ruin, and Mrs. Courtney be smiled on by duchesses, and be flirted with by their recreant lords—no more!

After one of her most splendid routs, she

had scarcely sunk into a restless dream, in which creditors in a thousand different shapes from all the elements seemed crowding round her, when she was startled by the rolling of a carriage to the door.

Her attendant entered at the same moment to tell her that a gentleman had arrived, who had sent up no name, but had desired that none of the family should be disturbed on his account.

Conjecture ran over the number of gentlemen, old and young, to whom she was indebted; and, conscious of the easy disguises of a creditor, she felt sudden alarm. She sprang to the window, but the carriage had driven off; and the bright sunshine striking upon her own countenance, showed her in her mirror a face that must not be exhibited to any human being without a long and studious surveillance.

Catherine, who had reluctantly appeared on the night before, and was the first to retire, was the first to rise, and entered the breakfast-parlour, unconscious of the new arrival. She stopped on seeing a gentleman there, who unhearing her light step, and with his back turned to her, was looking intently at the family pictures. He was tall and stately; but his head partially bald, and his attitude slightly bent, as by illness or wounds, struck her with an instinctive impression for

which she could find no words. The stranger turned, and with military courtliness. made her a low obeisance. He was a handsome and martial-looking figure; but his sallow countenance gave proof that he had long served abroad. He gazed for a moment, as if trying to collect his thoughts, then exclaiming, "Catherine, my girl!" caught her half fainting in his arms.

She was now happy, without a recollection of sorrow to shade her happiness. She was in the arms of her protector, and her parent. She fixed her fine eyes on his vigorous and joyous features with a strange delight she felt as if he had never left her; yet she felt as if a new security from anguish, a new enjoyment of existence, a new tie to life had been created for her within that hour.

The General gazed at her with mingled fondness and admiration. "And is this the little one that used to climb my knees, that I have chidden and kissed a hundred times a-day? You cannot remember those early times, Catherine, but they are still fresh in your father's memory. Could I have anticipated the happiness of this meeting, I could never have found the courage to defer it so long." Catherine sent up a silent thanksgiving. "But it was for you, my child; and though India has left its marks upon me, I

hope to spend many a joyous day in England with you yet."

Catherine fondly replied, that his presence was enough for her happiness. "You talk like all girls, full of romance," said her father, laughingly; "but I'll answer for it, you will not find yourself the worse for possessing some of the good things of this world. You shall live like a Begum, a princess, my girl, and we must look out for a prince for you, ere long." The General, in the careless joy of his heart, had touched on an interesting topic; while Catherine, reverting with renewed pain to Courtney's story, trembled at the intimation.

Mrs. Courtney, whom the announcement of her visitor's name had for once induced to hasten the mysteries of the toilette more than usual, now entered, followed by her two daughters, to whom successively she introduced him: "But how is this?" said the General: "there is some familiar face, or familiar name, that strikes me as missing from the family circle. Julia !-Yes-Julia!-I hope no accident-she was a lovely child!""My dear General," said Mrs. Courtney, her former gracious smile giving place to an ominous gravity, "she is seldom named here-she is married!"-" So much the better," said the General; "she promised to be a fine sensible girl. Where does she