art of Chevydale
and Vanston. Sometimes Hycy was disposed to support the one and
sometimes the other, but as to feeling a firm attachment to the cause or
principles of either, it was not in his nature.

Indeed, the approach of a general election was at all times calculated
to fill the heart of a thinking man with a strong sense of shame for his
kind, and of sorrow for the unreasoning and brutal tendency to slavery
and degradation which it exhibits. Upon this occasion the canvass, in,
consequence of the desperate struggle that must ensue, owing to the
equality of the opposing forces, was a remarkably early one. Party
feeling and religious animosity, as is usual, ran very high, each having
been made the mere stalking-horse or catchword of the rival candidates,
who cared nothing, or at least very little, about the masses on either
side, provided always that they could turn them to some advantage.

It was one morning after the canvass had been going forward with great
activity on both sides for about a week, that Hycy, who now felt himself
rather peculiarly placed, rode down to Clinton's for the purpose of
formally paying his addresses to the gauger's interesting niece, and,
if possible, ascertaining his fate from her own lips. His brother Edward
had now been brought home in accordance with the expressed determination
of his father, with whom he was, unquestionably, a manifest favorite, a
circumstance which caused Hycy to detest him, and also deprived him in a
great degree of his mother's affection. Hycy had now resolved to pay his
devoirs to Kathleen Cavanagh, as a _dernier_ resort, in the event of
his failing with Miss Clinton; for, as regarding affection, he had
no earthly conception what it I meant. With this view he rode down to
Clinton's as we said, and met Harry coming out of the stable.

"Harry," said he, after his horse was put I up, "I am about to ask an
interview with your sister."

"I don't think she will grant it," replied her brother, "you are by no
means a favorite; with her; however, you can try; perhaps she may. You
know the old adage, '_varium et imutabile semper_.' Who knows but she
may have changed her mind?"

"Is your uncle within?" asked Hycy.

"No," replied his nephew, "he's gone to Fethertonge's upon some election
business."

"Could you not contrive," said Hycy, "to leave her and me together,
then, and allow me to ascertain what I am to expect?"

"Come in," said Harry--"never say it again. I