make herself acquainted with the real value and extent of her household possessions, and trusted no one, it was impossible that her mistake should be rectified. flecting, that although the stipulation between Lady Forbes and herself might require nothing further, she had a more serious duty to perform, a higher covenant to "One thing I must beg of your ladyship," | fulfil. said Agnes, after a few days' residence beneath the same roof had strengthened her courage to speak freely-" that I may be treated with implicit confidence. If we hold ourselves above all falsehood and duplicity, I believe we shall be as little inclined to suspect those with whom we associate, as to associate with those whom we suspect. If your ladyship is really unable to trust me entirely in your domestic affairs, I am sorry for it; not only because I shall then be reduced to the inconvenience of choosing another situation, but because I shall be convinced that you can never know what it is to possess a real friend." Lady Forbes looked astonished, a little angry, and a great deal more alarmed. Whether her house was really about to be turned out of the windows, she could not tell; but, certainly, none of her companions had ever spoken to her in this style before; and, judging from present appearances, it seemed but too probable that if her house should go, she would go along with it. "A companion!" she repeated to herself; but finding that Agnes waited for an answer, she replied, at last, that she had certainly no reason to doubt the sincerity of Miss Forester:-and in this humour the two ladies sat together without interruption during the rest of the morning; for Lady Forbes never went out except on the sunniest day,-saw nobody, and partook of no amusement but that which has been commemorated as the choice of a certain poet-reclining on a couch, and perpetually reading novels. Happy was it for her companion that no voice could travel over the magic lines with sufficient speed to keep alive her ladyship's spirits: Agnes was, therefore, left at liberty to pursue her own thoughts; and a long train of unprofitable musing would doubtless have been the consequence, had she not roused herself into action by re "Am I my brother's keeper?" is an answer we are ever prone to make when the daily duties which we owe to our fellowcreatures present themselves at an unwelcome season, or in a character too irksome for our indolence. No one has ever felt the power of a holy affection, without desiring to render to the beloved object a service the most devoted, and sometimes the most sacred. But is this all? Alas! the dearest to our hearts are not always near us; and are we, therefore, to drag on a life of indifference and unconcern with those amongst whom Providence has seen meet to place us? Shall we not, rather, have to render an account in strict reference to them, of our daily walk and conversation, in which the answer, "Am I my brother's keeper ?" will be as impotent a sound as when it echoed from the lips of the first murderer. Agnes Forester felt that nothing could be accomplished, without interesting the feelings of her new friend-feelings which had so long been dormant, that it required the greatest delicacy and the most assiduous attention to draw them forth, without any appearance of impertinent intrusion upon her private affairs. But there is one key which seldom fails to open the human heart, if properly applied-the key of sympathy; and Agnes had so long cultivated a deep interest in the feelings of others, particularly in the sufferings which she had any hope of alleviating, that she could enter into the minutest circumstances of those around her, without either affectation or pretence; and thus she enjoyed many opportunities of soothing and supporting, which others equally willing might seek in vain by every means to obtain. Lady Forbes had never been so fortunate as to meet with this quality in any of her former companions; and it was much to her own surprise, that she found herself, at a late hour one evening, telling Agnes of her would reply, with calm brow and unblush- Confidence once established, the way opened, and the work begun, Agnes went on with cheerful perseverance; and, although there were many objections to the graver books which she strove at times to introduce, and many excuses for the few faults which she ventured to point out at first in her ladyship's domestic economy, and then in her habits of acting and thinking, she evidently gained ground; and succeeded finally in obtaining that confidence and respect, without which, she could have done nothing. Before one month had passed away, Agnes believed herself to be in possession of the entire confidence of Lady Forbes; and so essential had she become to her happiness, that she was regarded as the very support of her life,-referred to in all doubts, appealed to in all difficulties, and entreated oftener than the day, never to leave her. In vain did Agnes argue, that a proper reliance upon that support which is promised to the needy, with the use of right reason in the common emergencies of life, would effectually prevent that servile dependance which places us too much in the power of our fellowcreatures. Lady Forbes had only advanced one step from the centre of selfishness, and that step was to throw her burdens upon Agnes, who thought, acted, and spoke for her, in short, was trusted so far, as to open and read her letters. It happened one day, that she had broken the seal of a letter at the request of her friend, and stood for some moments in silence before she began to read. Lady Forbes looked up, wondering that she did not proceed, and catching a glimpse of the hand writing, uttered a loud shriek, sprang to the side of Agnes, and, snatching the letter from her hand, demanded in a hurried manner, It was with the greatest satisfaction that Walter found his cousin, now fully established on the footing of a tried and valued friend, rather than a mere companion. "But Ag-whether she had seen any of the contents. nes makes every one love and respect her," said he, with a sigh, which none but himself could rightly interpret; and he resolved to call more frequently, since the manners of Lady Forbes began to be less forbidding. She would even join with social good humour in the society of the two cousins, and sometimes rallied Agnes on the attentions of her faithful knight. "Poor Walter!" Agnes "I saw the name of mother," replied Agnes, "and I blush to think that this is the first intimation I have had, that Lady Forbes has a daughter still living." For a proper explanation of this mysterious letter, it will be necessary to go back to the circumstances which had transpired at Houghton Castle. CHAPTER XI. ARNOLD Percival had seldom been so much roused as when he first learned the determination of his cousin Agnes. The degradation, the annoyance, to which she might be exposed, rushed upon his mind with aggravated horrors; indeed the scheme was altogether so hateful to him, that silent as he usually was, as to anything connected with his inner feelings, he found it difficult on this occasion to be quiet; and what is worse than all besides to an enraged man, he had no one to reproach,-nothing of which he could complain; for she who was the source and root of his provocation, bore too sacred a name for him to sully it with a breath of blame, and the act itself, though humiliating in the eye of the world, wore no impress but that of a noble and independent character. Feeling that he had no just grounds for his indignation, he shunned the society of his mother, whose quick perceptions and unscrupulous freedom, would neither permit him to be silent, nor tolerate his vindication of a wrong cause. In this temper he had little disposition to do the honours of his house to a friend of Randall's who dined at the castle that day; and retiring from table at an early hour, with the best apology his ingenuity could invent, he took his wonted stroll about the grounds and garden, after the departure of the daylight had secured him from the observations of impertinence. The same lovely picture of quiet and repose lay stretched before him in the light of a cloudless moon, the same scene unchanged by the stormy passions which struggled for the empire of his heart. In vain he asked for sympathy from nature, who answered him in silence and beauty, while his soul was a stranger to repose; and he felt as if the solemn majesty of night was speaking to his troubled spirit in the language of reproach. After passing to and fro, until wearied with his own fruitless repinings, he turned towards the door, and would have entered, but the sounds of uncongenial mirth issuing from the dining-room, checked his purpose, and leaning against the wall, he fell again into a deep and silent reverie. Few persons can be so much absorbed by meditation, as to be insensible to the sound of their own names; and Arnold, who had before been deaf to the conversation within, now found that he could distinctly hear the following words spoken with that freedom and emphasis which belong to the excitement of wine. "Bored to death, my good fellow. Nothing but the idea that he is incapable of managing his own affairs, would induce me to listen for another day to the eternal story of his wrongs, sufferings, and sorrows." "But what say you of his horses, his tables, and his wine? for these are the temptations to hold by a friend." "His horses are good, but he never hunts; his table is more indebted to the liberality of his house-keeper than himself; and of what value are his wines to me, when he never drinks? In fact, you never saw such a mo- | ping owl out of the liberty of a church-yard. A slight metamorphosis would make him into a cypress tree, standing by the side of a grave. But the best joke is yet to come.—I forgot to tell you of his pride Proud, is he?" "Aye, as the son of the morning. Lately, however, he has evinced symptoms of being in love with a poor portionless cousin, whom he thought to make the lady of his castle; but she, forsooth, entertaining some romantic notions about duty and that sort of thing, would none of him, but shot off to a situation in town-a governess, milliner, or compounder of sweet-meats, I know not which; leaving the broken-hearted lover to sigh away his sorrows to the winds that howl around his dreary castle." "Are my horses ready for a journey?" said Arnold to the first domestic who ap peared in the entrance-hall. "Tell Collins I shall set off to-morrow morning for the north;" and so saying he walked up stairs to his own apartment with a firm and determined step, that startled Collins from his evening slumbers. What a pity that the fillip which his energies had just received did not spur him on to something more important than a journey he knew not whither. But we measure the magnitude of our resolves more by the effort they cost us, than by the effect they are likely to produce; and thus we not unfrequently expend the whole force of our minds in accomplishing some puny purpose, which would scarcely have required one previous thought in the well-regulated conduct of a rational being. northern expedition," Collins still muttered to himself. On to the north,' is the only answer I get; but I suppose the sea will stop us some time, and that before long, if we travel at this rate." The fact was, Arnold himself had no fixed purpose in his journey. The mighty effort of setting off had cost too much for him to be capable of resolving again so soon, and had not the lame horse decided the matter, they might, as Collins surmised, have paid their respects to Johnny Groat, or rather his descendants, in their family mansion. The small inn at which their rapid course termi and Collins congratulated himself on his good fortune in having escaped a highland bog. The man who will not use his energies in the common affairs of life, though he may fancy himself possessed of powers which would, under certain circumstances, render him grand and terrific; yet these circum-nated, was by no means destitute of comfort, stances never happening to occur, he floats upon the stream of time as weak and worthless as any other bubble. The most important test of what mankind have agreed to designate by the word character, is the usefulness by which a track is left upon the map of life, to mark out the course of a certain individual, and direct posterity to the same goal. Arnold Percival could have given no better account of the purpose of his present journey, in preparing for which he raised his whole household, and made himself as busy as he could be about anything, than that he hoped to drive away reflection, and by flying from place to place, to leave himself behind. And had he been asked what trace would be left of him after his death, he would have answered, with gloomy satisfaction, “A nameless tomb:" as if men were sent upon the earth for no more glorious purpose than that of mingling again with its perishable dust. There is nothing like expeditious travelling, for lulling the senses to sleep, for deadening the perceptions that are too keen, and softening down the impressions that are too vivid. It seems to supply a constant conductor to the overcharged feelings, which are consequently relieved without an explosion. "We are certainly going to Johnny Groat's house," said Collins to the coachman, who complained that one of his horses had been lame for the last three stages, and would be unable to proceed much farther. Arnold was the least satisfied of any of the party, horses included; and when he entered the inn room fitted up for the reception of the higher class of travellers, it was not with the best possible grace that he saluted a young man in the dress of a sportsman, who had already obtained possession, and who looked up only for a moment from the lock of his gun, about which he was busy both with head and hand. His weary dogs were sleeping at full length by the fire, and stirred not at the approach of Arnold, who felt it rather too great an imposition on his good humour to be compelled to endure the company of both man and dogs. The gun at last being thoroughly examined and repaired, Kenneth Frazer began, with perfect urbanity and freedom, to converse on the common topics of the game, and the game season. "Let the gentleman come to the fire," said he, rousing his sleepy animals. "Sad dogs these of mine, sir-but there's no making gentlemen of brutes." "Can you reverse the rule," said Arnold, "and answer as fully?" "I fear not," replied Kenneth, with such a good-humoured, happy countenance, that the gloomy misanthrope felt almost ashamed of his remark, and changing the subject, he then told his companion the reason of his "I have never heard of any bounds to this unwelcome detention, and how much he apprehended from the annoyances of his horses and an equipage fit for a prince: but, present situation. "I have been thinking," said Kenneth, that your Southern habits would ill accord with the wild mountain life that we lead here; nor do I know, if I should ask you to go with me to my mother's house to-night, whether I should not be subjecting you to scenes and circumstances equally at variance with your taste; but if you will trust yourself to the warm welcome of a highland home, I have a good mother, who will make you as happy as she can." Arnold, at the same time that he was half tempted to accept this invitation, forced himself to decline it, with many protestations that he could not be guilty of such an unwarrantable intrusion. "Guilty or not guilty," said Kenneth, "I will order your horses, and if you will promise to ride a moderate pace, I will be your escort through the glen, which leads us to my mother's house by a nearer way than the public road." In half an hour the travellers were welcomed at the door of a spacious and venerable hall, half covered with wreaths of luxuriant ivy, and spangled over with the white stars of the rambling rose. A group of happy, healthy looking girls gathered round their brother, casting, ever and anon, shy glances at the stranger, who was more cordially greeted by the mother, a respectable and matronly dame. But Kenneth pushed on, with anxious and enquiring glance, as if he had not yet seen all nor half his mother's household. At last exclaiming with impatience, "Where is Ida ?" he was answered in a tone of regret by many voices at once, that she had left home in the morning on a visit to a friend, and would not return until the following day. "Sad news is that for any guest of ours;" replied Kenneth, "for, good girls as you all are, there is no happiness like the sight of Ida amongst you. I believe I have brought a very fine gentleman home with me," he continued in a lower tone, when Arnold had left the room, "for he travels with four never mind that, I dare say he will be hungry in due time, as well as meaner people ; and there can be no doubt about my mother's larder. Still one cannot eat always, and how to entertain him is the question, without Ida." Arnold now returned, and really well pleased with the comfortable aspect of all things around him, thanked his host most cordially for the unexpected improvement in his circumstances. A plentiful repast was soon spread before him, and Mrs. Frazer reminding him of his own mother in her genuine hospitality, certain thoughts of home in this far-off country, made his heart for a moment glow with gratitude, that he had found a welcome so entirely unsought and unmerited. If a man be capable of cheerfulness, it will surely be, when, after long travelling through strange places, with nothing to cheer him by the way but inn-welcomes, (with which the poet Shenstone, no doubt for want of better, was so well pleased,) he becomes, unexpectedly, the recipient of genuine kindness, and is plunged at once into the very centre of home comforts. Arnold felt all this, and along with it, a transient touch of happiness that lighted up his brow and made him one of the handsomest of men. "What a pity Ida is not here!" whispered Catherine to her brother: but a sudden thought had just flashed across his mind, and he did not wish for her quite as much as he had done at first. Weariness and excitement rendered sleep too desirable for either the stranger or the sportsman to sit up late that night; and Arnold sunk to rest with a faint notion that he might possibly be happy if he lived amongst the mountains of Scotland. The next morning the name of Ida was upon every lip again, until Arnold, little accustomed to be curious, began really to ponder in his own mind who this Ida could be. The girls could not be persuaded to walk, because they expected Ida every moment; |