mere: she was followed by our heroine and Rosemaldon, and brief seemed the moments, as these two, the handsomest and the best, basked in the delight of each other's presence, and felt that, whether in hall or cottage, they asked for nothing more. But the happiest hours end, and, when the Abbey clock struck midnight, the dancing ceased, a substantial supper was served in the hall, to all who chose to partake of lengthened hospitality.

By two o'clock, the last of the guests had departed, and the gates of the Abbey were closed. The County Chronicle informed its readers on the following Saturday, that some of the neighbouring 'squires, and not a few of the farmers and their sons, found great difficulty in making their way home, and that one or two solitary wayfarers were met on the following morning, at an unusually early hour, hurrying along, as though they had just awoke out of their sleep in some strange resting-place; but we cannot well believe that a Somersetshire yeoman would be so easily benighted in mind, as to give up the attempt to find his way home. The Chronicle must have libelled them.

At all events, we may affirm that nothing was talked of for a whole week but the hospitality of the Fitzhannon family, and the magnificence of their Christmas banquet, the Earl's urbanity, and the happy loveliness of his daughter.

CHAPTER IV.

"Silence spake denial."

"WELL, Madre," exclaimed the pretty Mabel, as she lounged listlessly.on a couch in Madame Floris's sitting-room, about a fortnight after the party had taken place at the Abbey, "what think you of this ripened dulness? The Christmas festivity seemed a mere matter of winter form; only imagine how wretchedly dismal we have been ever since! I declare we have scarcely seen a rational creature! There seems to reign throughout this great gloomy pile some fearful mystery. Such a dead silence! The enemy of mirth has gained his day."

"We will invoke the holy Virgin,” answered

Madame Floris, trembling, "and she may, perhaps, in mercy, send us relief. I confess that I never expected to see the day when the proud Earl of Dungarvon would give up his right to command here as the speaking lord, to that false dowager, who gives herself intolerable airs of superiority, while he wanders along the gloomy walls, looking the picture of melancholy, sighing like the wind before a storm."

-

"We seem as if some wizard had laid his spells on us," rejoined Mabel; "the very tapers burn dim as soon as they are lighted. The Abbey is a dark tomb! the saints preserve us! it was the temple of gaiety once, compared with what it is now. No visiters, no musicexcept that ghostly organ, that Horatia is so fond of, and from which she peals out such dismal sounds! I feel as if I were some old spectre, hovering about a haunted vault. How I miss dear little Edwin, with his merry stories and laughing face!"

Floris looked seriously important, but was dumb, in spite of herself.

"We have lost everything that made the

place tolerable," persisted Mabe! ; " and I have the greatest mind in the world, mother, to run away."

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Resignation is a virtue, my dear," answered Floris, "which you must learn to practise "

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ter;

Perhaps I may, in time,” said the daugh"but I am sure I have no patience now with Horatia, looking so melancholy; her very smiles seem forced. What can it all mean ?”

"I know a great deal," answered Floris, mysteriously," and I can keep what I know secret. There has been a discovery made-what think you of a murder?"

"A murder!" screamed Mabel, springing from her couch, and seizing her mother by the arm; "a murder, did you say? But where ?do tell me! I cannot believe it's come to that!"

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They say that the criminal has long evaded justice, in consequence of the want of sufficient proof," answered Madame Floris; "and not only evaded it, but walked about, as you or I would, freely; but now, at this very time, and