le and distressed fellow-creatures, is not likely to commit or
become accessory in any way to such a detestable and unnatural crime.
Her whole life and conduct render such a supposition monstrous and
incredible."

Both, after he had closed his observations, mused for some time, when
the baronet, rising and pacing to and fro, as was his custom, at
length asked--"Well, my lord, what say you? Are we never to come to a
conclusion?"

"My determination is simply this, my dear baronet,--that, if you
and Miss Gourlay are satisfied to take Lord Dunroe, with all his
imperfections on his head, I shall give no opposition. She will, unless
he amends and reforms, take him, I grant you, at her peril; but be it
so. If the union, as, you say, will be the result of mutual attachment,
in God's name let them marry. It is possible, we are assured, that the
'unbelieving husband may be saved by the believing wife.'"

"I am quite satisfied, my lord, with this arrangement; it is fair, and
just, and honorable, and I am perfectly willing to abide by it. When
does your lordship propose to return to us?"

"I am tired of public life, my dear baronet. My daughter, Lady Emily,
who, you know, has chiefly resided with her maiden aunt, hopes to
succeed in prevailing on her to accompany us to Glenshee Castle, to
spend the summer and autumn, and visit some of the beautiful scenery of
this unknown land of ours. Something, as to time, depends upon Dunroe's
convalescence. My stay in England, however, will be as short as I can
make it. I am getting too old for the exhausting din and bustle of
society; and what I want now, is quiet repose, time to reflect upon my
past life, and to prepare myself, as well as I can, for a new change. Of
course, we will be both qualified to resume the subject of this marriage
after my return, and, until then, farewell, my dear baronet. But mark
me--no force, no violence."

Sir Thomas, as he shook hands with him, laughed--"None will be
necessary, my lord, I assure you--I pledge you my honor for that."

The worthy baronet, on mounting his horse, paced him slowly out of the
grounds, as was his custom when in deep meditation.

"If I don't mistake," thought he, "I have a clew to this same mysterious
gentleman in the inn. He has seen and become acquainted with Lucy in
Paris, under sanction of her weak-minded and foolish mother. The girl
herself admitted that her engagement to him was with her consent.
Dunroe, already aware of hi