of innocence," said Fidelia. "Oh! who, with feelings that allow of such enjoyment, should consider themselves entirely unhappy? The gratifications of wealth, the comforts of independence, may never be mine; but Thou-oh, Thou, who by thy special providence and favour hast indeed manifested thyself to me, the Father of the fatherless, the Friend of the outcast, still preserve to me these feelings, and truly miserable I shall not consider myself!"

The silver light beamed far and wide, and as Fidelia continued to lean from the window to observe its effect upon different objects, she fancied she beheld something moving in the plantations that filled up one of the dilapidated courts of the Castle. Her attention becoming fixed, she soon found she was not mistaken. Slowly emerging from the ruins, a small procession gradually advanced, with downcast looks and folded arms. What the nature

of it could be, who the persons that com

posed it, or for what purpose, at such an hour, a thing of the kind could be formed, Fidelia could not possibly conceive, and with wonder almost, something more than curiosity mingled; yet would she have been displeased, perhaps, if accused of any thing like superstitious weakness at the moment. Be the feeling she experienced, however, what it might, certain strange stories assuredly occurred to her imagination at it, nor could she prevent a shudder when she saw them draw near the window where she was: slowly and silently, however, they passed on; and as they wound round the tower into the road, a soft low strain swelled upon the air, reminding her of the litanies chanted abroad in religious processions.

While involuntarily bending forward to watch their receding steps, a scream escaped her, on feeling her arm touched by some one behind her; nor will her fright at this excite surprise, when it is known that Mr. and Mrs. Stovendale slept in the other tower, to which there

was no access at night, but through the dreary dilapidated chambers already mentioned. On turning round, however, her emotion a little subsided on seeing Nelly, the servant-girl, who, except herself, was the only occupant of this part of the building, the other female domestic being so scared by some noise she had heard as to return home every night to sleep; and which circumstance, when mentioned to Fidelia, had reminded her of what Beattie says of the power of imagination over us -how apt our senses are to mislead us, and that, if we were in the habit of encountering the terrors that haunt the ignorant and credulous, we should finally overcome and banish them.

"Och then, Miss, jewel, I am sure it's yourself that must have been frightened to-night!" Nelly said; "and so, thinking so, I thought I'd just be after getting up to see; and to be sure myself had share of the fright, for I was dreaming of the ould ladies of the Castle when I heard the confraternity."

Inquiring, Fidelia learnt that there was a particular set of the Catholics who went under this denomination, and who, on particular occasions, especially the eve of any great festival, were wont to go in procession to chapel.-" It was poor Barney Molloy got such a fright by them," Nelly continued," he wasn't himself for many a day after. It was on a Christmas eve, and he was going to hear mass at midnight, at the chapel at Abbeyland, when, just as he got hereabouts, he sees them coming out from amongst the ruins, just as you might to-night, Miss; and so, all of a sudden it comes into his head what he had heard of the ould ladies of the Castle walking, and down he sat, squeezing himself up against the wall; and he was so kilt with the fright, you wouldn't have given a farthing for his life, he says."

Fidelia could not help smiling at the idea of what she had experienced but a minute before on the occasion; perfectly recovered now, however, from her panic,

she quietly dismissed the communicative Nelly, to resume her repose.

CHAPTER IX.

"Nought but what wounds his virtue wounds his peace."

THE incidents of the preceding night, Fidelia had no doubt, would afford amusement at the breakfast-table the next morning: she was just beginning to recite them, when a letter was brought to Mr. Stovendale, which the man who delivered it said had been put into the post-office that morning. He hastily opened it, not without a little agitation on perceiving it directed in the hand of a stranger, having, as already mentioned, the most powerful reasons for wishing his present residence to remain unknown: but his agitation, though no longer from any personal consideration, was not lessened by its contents, which,