adorned with a projecting frieze, on which stood the lighted branches, with alabaster vases full of autumnal flowers. It appeared to have been translated from some building of older date; and, indeed, little more than a century before, this very arch had mantled the Abbot's hearth in the good monastery of Lindisfarne.

Ferdinand next looked at the oak-pannelled walls of the room, enlivened by a range of fine portraits in carved ebony frames. These, with a cabinet of curious china, a harpsichord, a well-stored bookcase, and the usual complement of sofas and chairs, completed the furniture. He did not take so cursory a view of its inhabitants. The venerable master of the house sat on one side of the fire-place, talking with the Marquis. His silvered hair and benign countenance, blanched and worn by seventy winters, seemed to announce how nearly the divine spirit within had shaken off its earthly tabernacle. The Marquis had never before regarded an avowed minister of the Reformation, without a distance in his manner that proclaimed I am near pollution! but now he sat listening to the Pastor with so cordial an air, that Ferdinand murmured to himself; "Ah! my father, it is too late for your unhappy son, should your present feelings towards that good man, indeed, draw away the only prejudice from your noble heart!" He sighed heavily, and turned his attention to the other side of the room.

The sisters had withdrawn their chairs far from the fire-side circle, and were plying their needles with indefatigable diligence. Cornelia's raven hair was braided back from her polished brow, and confined in a knot with a gold bodkin. The majestic contour of her features suited well with her Roman name; and the simplicity of the plain white garment in which she was arrayed, harmonized with the modest dignity of a figure, which proclaimed in every movement that the nobility of the soul needs no foreign ornament! As her fair hand traversed the embroidery frame, Ferdinand turned from these lofty beauties, to the gentle Alice; whose charms, if of a feebler, were of a subtler force. Her head, which moved about rather oftener than her sister's, in search of silk, scissors, and needles, gave free scope to the contemplation of the young Spaniard. She appeared several years younger than Cornelia. Her form was fairy in its proportions; slight, airy, and apparently impalpable to aught but the touch of a sylph. Her azure eyes, glancing around for what she sought, shone so lucidly bright from under her flaxen locks, that Ferdinand thought he had never seen eyes so beautiful; "Never," said he to himself, "so divinely innocent; never so irresistibly exhilarating."

He continued to gaze, till some bitter recollections caused him to cover his eyes with his hand; but soon withdrawing it, he looked again upon Alice; and longed to hear her speak, while a sudden self-gratulation on how fluently he could himself discourse in English, animated his before languid features. He observed her turn her head towards the yet uncurtained window. The moon was now holding her bright course in the heavens, without meeting the passing shadow of a single cloud. He seized the opportunity to address the sisters, and remarked the beauty of the night.

"It is calmer than usual, after so tempestuous a day," observed Cornelia.

"I am glad the winds are quiet," said Alice; "for we may now look for Louis, without fear of the breakers."

Ferdinand enquired whether her cousin were to cross the sea that night.

"We hope so," replied she; "he went yesterday to Bamborough Castle; and I am sure nothing but the storm prevented his returning to us this morning."

"Whatever may be the attractions of Bamborough Castle," rejoined Ferdinand, "I cannot be surprised your cousin should prefer his home to all other places." He accompanied this remark with that sort of smile and bow to Alice, which a woman of the world would have understood as a compliment to herself; but Alice was too ignorant of the gallantries of fashionable society, to see anything in this, but the obvious meaning of the words. Cornelia received the speech as her sister had done; and exclaimed with a sigh, "I wish Louis did prefer his home to all other places!"

"Why say that, Cornelia?" said Alice; "you know how he loves us all; how he despises the people he meets at the Castle; and you cannot seriously doubt our dear Louis's preference of home to all other places!"

Ferdinand did not perceive the grounds of conclusion which the fair Alice drew from her argument, but he admired her brightening eyes as she uttered this hasty defence; which he readily apprehended was intended, rather as a palliation to him of her cousin's absence, than any refutation to her sister. Cornelia appeared to understand the same; for she did not reply, but pensively resumed her embroidery. Alice now became confused; regarding the silence of her sister as a reproof for her having said so much before a stranger, she turned away her head, and with trembling hands re-commenced her work.—Ferdinand did not withdraw his eyes from the little table. He wished to see the fortunate cousin, upon whom these lovely sisters lavished so much solicitude; and he was curious to know who the inhabitants of the castle were, whose attractions could excite jealousy in young women so full of charms.

While he was thus ruminating, Mrs. Coningsby entered, to lead her uncle's guests to the supper room. Before they obeyed her hospitable summons, the Marquis requested that he and his son might retire to disencumber themselves of their travelling accoutrements; and when they had withdrawn, the Pastor took that interval to inform his niece and daughters, that the noble Spaniards were to be his guests for some days.—He read apart to Mrs. Coningsby, the passage of Baron Hensius's letter, which mentioned that Don Ferdinand d'Osorio, the Marquis's only son, was the primary cause of this visit to England.—On the Marquis's recall from his diplomatic situation in Italy, he stopped a few months at Vienna, where his wife's family reside. In that city, Don Ferdinand was seized with a fever on his spirits, which menaced his life.—Medical skill was exhausted; and as a lost hope, the physicians ordered him to travel. His father knew this darling son had a fatal bond in the Austrian capital; he therefore saw no alternative but to apply secretly to Spain for the royal mandate, to send both father and son on a seemingly official tour to Holland and Great Britain. It arrived, and the travellers set forward. In Holland, Don Ferdinand's disorder re-doubled.—The Amsterdam physicians recommended a sea voyage, and the bracing air of the north; and as the desponding invalid now appeared indifferent to his fate, the Marquis determined on entering Great Britain by Scotland. He knew that Lindisfarne, the Holy Island of unnumbered saints, lay in the way; and full of parental anxiety, he formed a wish, which he communicated to Baron Hensius, of propitiating a peculiar blessing on this part of his tour, by paying his vows at the shrine of Saint Cuthbert.

"My friend warns me," continued the Pastor, addressing his younger nieces as well as their mother; "that the Marquis Santa Cruz is a Roman Catholic in the severest sense of the term.—That his mind, enlightened on every other subject, is here under an impenetrable cloud. Indeed, his errand hither is a sufficient proof of his mental darkness. He brings his son to this island, to touch the dead man's bones, and be healed; and he neglects the living presence of his