had formed an idea of investigating her relative situation to the family. Generally about once a year there came on a visit to Deventon, a Lord and Lady Fitzwalter. Mrs. Grenville was aunt to his lordship, and most affectionately attached to his lady. Indeed it was almost impossible she could be otherwise, for Lady Fitzwalter might have passed for the representative of chastity. Mild, dignified, and elegant, she won the hearts of all beholders. Here it was that Anna, often meeting her ladyship, conceived for her a most ardent attachment, anticipating each periodical return of Lord and Lady Fitzwalter to Deventon, with an eagerness which bordered on uneasiness as the time approached. Circumstances, however, gave to Anna an opportunity of frequently seeing her ladyship, from her becoming the resident of a very elegant little lodge adjoining the park; and whether it was that the marked notice of the girl, or the gentle turn turn of her disposition, had attracted Lady Fitzwalter, she was herself not aware of, but her ladyship certainly regarded the pretty little creature with a fondness she had conceived her heart incapable of feeling. Strange, that such a heart as Lady Fitzwalter possessed, could ever be insensible to sweet affection! yet it was-a heavy calamity had deadened the tenderer emotions of it, and only the soft Anna could reanimate their long-suppressed feelings. But as Lord and Lady Fitzwalter form distinguished characters in this story, we will not, like-Like what ?-Like my country, make a beginning at the end, but honour them with a new chapter. CHAP. CHAP. II. "Mark where yon broken pillars strew the plain, RUINS OF PALMYRA. IN a spot where Nature seemed to have been lavish of her choicest bounties, near the delightful vale of Wensley, in the north of England, stood the yet stately remains of a venerable pile of architecture -a castle, whose walls formerly echoed to the resounding shouts of mirth and festivity; whose tables had groaned beneath the the weight of the luxurious banquet; and where the ancient minstrels, striking the swelling chords of the harp, sung "the deeds of old;" while youthful warriors, listening with attentive ears, caught the enthusiastic strain, and felt their bosoms glow with renovated ardour, to emulate the heroe sof past days.. This castle, whose romantic situation inspired the beholder with no less awe than admiration, took its name from the river Eure, whose playful meanderings wound in various forms through the extensive domain, giving additional beauty to the picturesque scenery. A thick wood of elm and venerable oak, some yet retaining their pristine majesty, and others withering with age, shaded the walls of this ancient building, while lofty hills, rising beyond.it, threw a solemn gloom around, presenting to the admiring eye a sublime display of nature and art. On On many parts of this venerable structure the hand of time had made dreadful ravages; but there was yet sufficient of it remaining to point out what the whole had been some centuries back; and the side fronting the west had still withstood the depredations of its destroying power. The awful sublimity of the place had given rise to numerous strange reports concerning it, which gaining strength by repetition, and always some fresh addition, had at length so impressed with terror the minds of the poor inhabitants round it, that hardly would any of them venture to pass the wood after sun-set, from the idea of its being the nocturnal preambulation of beings long sunk to the grave, but whose spirits, they supposed, still wandered within the castle walls, and nightly` trod the dark recesses of its surrounding groves. An old man and woman had, for many years, |