Dalveen, mother: I know it from the step of all other men. Come in, my lord;-we have been talking of you; and, for the sake of the rarity of the matter, I must tell you, that I have spoken slightingly of you, and my mother in your praise. Will any other mother and daughter do the like?"

"My pretty witty maiden," said Lord Dalveen, entering, and seating himself between Maud and her mother, "I love to hear you speak; for there is a pleasure of its kind in hearing one's failings described by a satiric tongue, not the less lively when the words are those of a maiden young and fair.""My lord," was the answer, "if you are come to have faithful portraits of your infirmities drawn, you have little compassion on me your poor handmaid. I wish I had the gift of summoning your follies before you, and making them pass in long array, like the shadowy progeny of Banquo in the vision of Macbeth."

"No, no, my pretty Maud," said Lord Dalveen, "let me have no miracles, no magic. Dash me off one or two of my follies in your own happy and biting way. Come, come, I know you can do it well I have heard you do it.

:

Come." "Maud, my love, please my lord," said Prudence, "and be not over bold. A bitter word, though said in jest, sinks sometimes deeper than one said in sad earnest."-" Now, what shall I do ?" said do?" the maiden. "My mother cries, Be sweet and smooth; and my lord cries, Paint a folly or two.

Honest Truth comes in between, and cries, looking on my canvas, Too light-too sunny; dip your brush in the lake of darkness. There are no follies to paint. You must become a limner of sin."

66

My fair Maud," said Dalveen," somebodyprobably my own foolish self-has told you that you are beautiful; and, being so, you are desirous of becoming a wit. I must acknowledge your claims to both. This friend of yours-this same honest Truth-is no sayer of soft and agreeable things: he is a rough ready-witted comrade, that will never allow me to have too much conceit of myself;-a kind of licensed preacher against failings and infirmities. As I wish to be friends with you, pretty Maud, I shall e'en take this honest Truth of yours into my household. Will he be chargeable ?"—" Your question is very natural, my Lord, since Truth was never in your train before. Chargeable! No, no. He wears no splendid livery, like Folly; you may keep him in a sober suit. But you will find him, in your Lordship's way of life, a very saucy servant. He will beat some of your retinue, and may even lift his hand against your own perfumed person."

"Have done with this idle fooling, girl," said Prudence. "My lord, you must not mind all that Maud says. I have seen her start up, when she was no higher than my girdle, and do battle for the house of Dalveen, as her ancestors did of ́ old. It was but last week that she kindled up,

like fire set to heather, when some foolish person spoke lightly of your name." And she looked aside and shook her head at her daughter, with a face darkened down into admonition and reproof.

The maiden rose in her place, her face reddening, her eyes beaming, and her bosom heaving with emotion. "And if I did, my lord, I did so because the base and the vile were measuring the name of Dalveen with their own, and lowering down a house famed over the earth for its valour and its generosity. The glory of your house has been the evening prayer at this hearth for centuries;-it is our creed, our scripture ;and it shall not be the sin of one evil attempt, but of many, which can make me forget it-"

Her mother guessed, by her kindling face, that other words, of a sterner nature, would follow. She therefore interfered. "My daughter has spoken wisely and true: let us now be silent on the subject; and do thou, Maud, bring me a cup of cold water from the little well. I feel faint, my girl." And she enforced her order by a slight stamp of her foot, and by a monitory contraction of brow.

"Now do not," said his Lordship, "banish my pretty Maud from my side at present. I love her spirit, the more so, that she has defended me with so much enthusiasm and tenderness.”—“ Deceive not yourself, my Lord," said Maud; "I defended but the fair fame of the dead in their

defence the living would require great skill and greater impudence. Impudence! ay, intrepid assurance, such as that of Lord Dalveen, who, not satisfied with having basely insulted the daughter—and sought to stab the brother-comes boldly forth, and seats himself by the mother at her own fireside, like a man armed to the teeth in innocence and good-will. Rise, Sir, and begone! Rise!— I am my brother's sister, if I am my mother's daughter. Begone! It will be your best."

66

Why, now, my fair maiden," said Lord Dalveen, "this is very pretty acting. You know that I esteem and admire you; that I love your brother, wilful as he is; and your mother can witness with what mildness of nature and kindliness of heart I have endured your little peevish sallies of witty malice against me to-night. Be seated, and be forgiving."

The calm carelessness of Lord Dalveen moved Maud more than stormy insolence would have done. Her bosom rose and fell with violent agitation, and her dress rustled with her short quiet steps from side to side of the house. “ Rise,

I

say, and begone!" she exclaimed.

"Your pre

sence is dishonour; your visit defames us; your voice, heard at our hearth by a passing beggar, would taint our good name beyond all reparation. You laugh, my Lord. Put not your trust too much in woman's weakness: trust as little to that as I trust to your perfidy. Your presumption may

deceive you. I have one sure friend, if I have no more, a friend whom your calm considerate villany introduced to my bosom." And into her bosom she thrust her right hand, and seemed to grasp something which was kept concealed. She slowly withdrew her hand, and stood calm and collected, like one overmastering some rash or hasty purpose.

Prudence gazed on her agitation with wonder and alarm." My daughter," she said with a faltering voice, "what fearful wrong hast thou suffered, that thou speakest so rashly and unwisely ?” "Wrong I have not suffered, mother," was the reply; but I have endured the deepest insult that man can offer to woman,-and there he sits smiling who offered it.—But on this subject shall I never open my lips again." "Then what dost thou complain of, peevish girl?" said Prudence," what moves thee thus-what has possest thee ?” ther-mother!" she exclaimed, the tears starting from her eyes, and her hands compressed with agony; "of my own wrongs I shall say no more.

Listen.

"Mo

That man-him there, he had his sword at my brave brother's throat but two nights ago. I saw him with my own eyes,—but the bravery of my brother foiled him ;-had John failed to defend himself, there was one near to avenge him. God give me patience to endure the wrongs he has done us,-for since my mother endures them, I may." She ceased and sat down, arranged her disordered