"And yet ye promised my young lady a brace of plump ones," answered, Robin, “when she patted Juno, and came out to see us off."

“True, Robin," said De Vere; "but I have now missed three times,-this is not a shooting day with me."

"It used not to be so at Talbois-God bless the old place!-when you walked as fast as the dogs, and shot as well as me,” said Robin: "But come, faint-heart never won," (De Vere rather smiled,) "we'll do better next time."

"Not to-day," said De Vere, throwing the butt end of his piece over his shoulder, and leaving friend Robin to follow the sport. "I would much rather hunt my own thoughts here," continued he, when alone, and plunging into a recess near the castle, called the wilder"I would much rather

ness,

'Welcome folded arms and fixed eyes,
A sigh that, piercing, mortifies,
A look that's fastened to the ground,
A tongue chained up without a sound.'

But here he was disappointed; for he had not been seated on the bench he sought five minutes, before voices and footsteps shewed that

company was near, and this company consisted of his mother, Lady Constance, and Clayton. "So soon returned !" said Lady Eleanor.

"Rather so late," answered De Vere, "for I shot so ill, I wonder I did not give it up sooner."

"And have you so little perseverance?"

"I cannot persevere when I know it is bootless," replied De Vere.

"And yet you do not in general take "bootless' so easily for granted," said his mother.

"You did not do so at Talbois," added Constance, in a tone of raillery. "But that was when you were in the full enjoyment of youth and liberty; now you are old and tired, and have a right to repose. You have at least brought birds ?"

me my

"Not even that, my fair cousin. In truth there seemed a spell over me to-day, and what I could not accomplish, I thought it best to fly."

There seemed to be a meaning in the tone with which he said this, and Constance answered:

"Very philosophical, indeed; I wish you joy of your nonchalance," and then fell to playing unconsciously with her glove.

"Nonchalance !" cried De Vere, with some

emotion.

"Yes, and Mr. Clayton admires you for it; SO if you have any to spare, bestow it upon him. He says he is uneasy from too much feeling." "I am in the clouds," said Mortimer. "And I," cried Clayton, breaking silence. "Mr. Clayton," said Lady Eleanor, "has been quite enthusiastic just now, in lamenting the inconveniences of enthusiasm. He says it often leads him to hope impossibilities, and cling to his hope, though sure to be disappointed.

"A happy creed," said Mortimer, " and I could envy him

"Envy him!" cried Constance, with quick

ness.

"My son should envy no one," observed Lady: Eleanor.

"Strange if he did," exclaimed Clayton, "when all the world is before him where to choose. Stranger still, to envy one like me."

Here, Mr. Clayton chose to look down and sigh; and Constance looked up, with an air of displeasure, not usual with her.

"Come," said Lady Eleanor, "you are all too young to be philosophers; and I do not know what has come over either you, Mortimer,

or your friend, Mr. Clayton. You are certainly not such good company as you used to be in the country. But politics have spoiled you both; and we shall certainly banish you into the world again; for you seem tired of us, and all the other insipidities of retreat."

De Vere laughed, and Clayton was about to reply, and had planned some very pretty compliments upon it, when a servant coming with a summons for him from Lord Mowbray, deprived the party of their compliments, and the complimenter into the bargain.

"Say what you will, Mortimer," said Constance, when he was gone, "I do not like your friend: nor do I know what it is in him that has so fascinated you and my father."

"We think him an honest and grateful fellow," replied Mortimer, "greatly attached to me, and through me, to my uncle."

"Have a care," returned Constance, smiling, "that you do not find it is only for your uncle's sake that you yourself are liked: or at any rate that he is a little of the cat kind, attached to the house rather than the master."

Lady Eleanor looked surprised, and would have spoken, had not her son interrupted her.

"I am always afraid of you, Constance," said

he," when you are in your severities, for I fear my turn will come next."

"You afraid of me, Mortimer ?"

"Yes, for are you not the most fastidious princess upon earth; and do you not require a perfection in your subjects to which no mortal can attain? It was but the other day, that you did not like Lord Cleveland."

"And do you like Lord Cleveland ?"

"We are not much alike, I believe," replied Mortimer.

"Ah! how unlike, as well as to this Clayton," rejoined Lady Constance.

Mortimer felt pleased; but, resolving to try his cousin a little more, he went on. " Do you know what Lord Cleveland has said of you since you were so distant to him, as I heard you were, in town?"

"It concerns me little," observed Constance, colaily.

"Nevertheless, you shall hear,” replied De Vere, "for it was thought witty."

"And, no doubt, impertinent," rejoined Con

stance.

"On the contrary, complimentary; for he said you were like the beautiful marble of your