over a parent stem. It was saddening indeed to witness such desolation, Fidelia thought, nor could she wonder at its being particularly so to those yet able to remember the place in its pristine state, as to them this desolation must be heightened by all the force of contrast. Each extremity of the avenue was distinguished by massive piers, but from which the gates once attached to them had been long severed; the end she was now approaching terminated in a large grass-grown court, whence, turning through a gateway on the right, she found herself amidst a thick plantation of trees and shrubs, evidently, from the traces of walls amongst them, covering a space that had originally been occupied by part of the building itself. Through this she with difficulty made her way, so unequal was the ground, and so thickly were the trees united. At length she found herself in another court corresponding in size with the first she had entered, and where, on a steep ascent, stood all that now remained habitable of

the ancient pile, namely, two square towers united by a range of evidently dilapidated apartments. The embellishments of ivy, stone-crop, and lichens, were not wanting to give a picturesque effect to the ruin; the thistle literally shook here its beardthe moss whistled in the wind. From this ascent was an extensive view of the adjacent country on one side there was little more than a view of the dreary tract through which she had so recently passed, but on every other it was cheerful, the farms in this direction being well cultivated and neatly enclosed, while the prospect was a little diversified by vestiges of the encircling chain of forts that had once commanded the passes of the bog, and by means of which, on any sudden extremity, the principal inhabitants were quickly summoned to the aid of each other.

While Fidelia was gazing about her, one of the tower-doors opened, and Mrs. Stovendale issued from it. Before she saw Fidelia she had advanced too far to recede, as else perhaps, from the sudden recoil she

gave on discovering her, she might have tried to do. Fidelia, fearful her finding her there might be imputed to another motive than the real one, hastened to account to her for the circumstance. Affectionately pressing her hand, she assured her the explanation was unnecessary; adding, that, on her return to the inn, she meant to inform her of her own visit to the place, as on the ensuing day they were to remove to it, and in consequence of which she had been there to see that the apartments were prepared; "for," with (Fidelia could not help thinking) affected carelessness, having occasion to come here for a little while," she proceeded, "the marquis of Clonard obligingly offered us the accommodations he himself has in his occasional visits to the place." In their way back to the inn, Mrs. Stovendale intimated that, for the present, she wished nothing mentioned there of their intended removal to the Castle. Fidelia became still more perplexed by all she saw and heard, and the kind of

mysterious air that was imparted to every circumstance. She had not been a day or two, however, in her new abode, ere she was led to imagine, from different allusions and inadvertent expressions that escaped Mrs. Stovendale, that that lady was in some way or other connected with the illustrious family within the mouldering walls of whose dilapidated mansion she now lodged; nor was she mistakenMrs. Stovendale was the descendant of the younger branch, and, in right of her father, had become possessed of Abbeyland. Wilful extravagance on his part had a good deal involved it, but all might have been retrieved, had not unfortunately her husband resembled him too much in the thoughtless part of his disposition, so that, at the last, she saw it completely wrested from him: in a word, her husband was the alternately erring and repenting, the handsome and inconsiderate Grandison, that, years back, had wooed but too successfully the youthful heiress of Fitzossory. His name was originally

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what it now was a fortune bequeathed by a relative of the name of Grandison had occasioned its temporary change, for, in the course of a few years after becoming possessed of this property, the right of the donor to will it as he had done became litigated, and being finally set aside, with his enforced resignation of the estate, the name it had entailed upon him was also resigned.

CHAPTER VII.

"Virtuous and vicious ev'ry man must be, Few in th' extreme, but all in a degree;

"Tis but by parts we follow good or ill,
For, vice or virtue, self directs it still;
Each individual seeks a sev'ral goal,

But Heav'n's great view is one, and that the whole."

IT has already been stated that the succes sor of lady Eva was worthy of becoming so: had her advice, her remonstrances and