"Come away; we have heard sufficient to shew you that Zenobia is a noble girl, and does not remember your insult," whispered Laura, 'Certainly, Major; that was an answer in slightly blushing, and they noiselessly moved itself," returned Percy; "I suppose an Irish away; the officer smiling satisfaction, rather election is no novelty to you; but I long to pleased that already his attentions to the charm-witness one of those scenes of tumult and dising Miss Singleton had become a subject for order, riot and corruption, mob barbarities and

military civilization, called an Irish election. I say, Anketell, won't it be a very amusing scene?" "I imagine you will be disappointed," said the Major in his dry tone," and that the barracks will be your only field of display to-morrow, unless we are ordered to aid the civil power in maintaining peace."

"Confined to barracks ?--durance vile? Insufferable!" exclaimed Percy, raising his cap indolently, while every one smiled; even his steady brother, who seemed not to heed what was passing.

Very unfortunate," lisped an ensign, who had the experience of a week in the service; "I thought we should have seen Miss Singleton, who, I have been told, goes about canvassing for her father, with green bows in her horses' heads, and rides in a rebel uniform. How very amusing she must be !"

"She is a little tinctured with national prejudices," answered Percy, turning to the last speaker, "yet not the absurdity which you imagine; her mother being a foreigner and papist, of course has infected the daughter. You would be sure to fall in love, Maitland, with la belle Laura."

"Laura? what a pretty name," mused the boy lately emancipated from a secluded home. "But all the Irish ladies enter into politics, and are such radicals; at least, my mother said so.' A roar of laughter assailed the youth, joined in by all except Captain Osbaldistone, who regarded him with such interest that the boy involuntarily placed himself by his side.

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youths like you have need even of the armour of a mother's warning. As for me, my early training and experience of life teaches me not to separate the treason from the traitor."

If he

"You have never had an outlaw in your family, Osbaldistone," said the Major, with something like feeling; "your experience has not carried you as far as your brother's. loves the girl in question, he will no doubt be a repealer for a time at least. Love is the great leveller, my dear fellow. Love is more exacting than old Major Gordon. Here we have the post." And the Major turned with his letters into the mess-room.

Captain Anketell sneered when Percy received a perfumed note, and read it, humming an air as he sauntered also into the barracks.

"Percy is in no great danger I apprehend, Anketell," said Stephen.

The officer addressed smiled an answer and moved off, muttering words of dangerous import, as though he spoke to quiet a spirit longing for vengeance.

"We have been left to ourselves," said Captain Osbaldistone, after a pause, to the newlyarrived ensign, who still stood near him. “I have no letters to get; I never wrote to woman in my life but once to my mother, in answer to her congratulations when I obtained my company. My elder brother has nothing to say which I care to hear, and Percy corresponds with all the family friends. I have no friends, thank Heaven, or enemies, to beset me; so if you wish to have a walk let us come, and forget the life we are tied to.”

"Your mother, Maitland,” said Captain Anketell, was a woman of discrimination, and wrapped you in an impenetrable coat of mail | when she sent you among the wild Irish; but you will learn yet that politics, in a woman's mouth, is a subtle invention to captivate by eloquence, and-like my friend Percy, at once a branch of all the English nobility, and a violent Tory-you will say, the language of a repealer but gives a piquancy and polish to the genuine wit of an Irishwoman. Those fresh feelings, boy, will wear themselves out before you are three-andthirty. You will forget, as I do, your country; but thank Heaven for life, even among the Irish." "It is my turn now," began Captain Osbaldistone, leaning a hand on Maitland's shoulder; "it is my duty to express dissent and disapprobation of Percy's term, 'national prejudice,' when applied to one who has all the inclination to be a repealer. I do not condemn the people of this country as disloyal, yet I must say, danger lurks in the close association with those whose The servant smiled, and Captain Osbaldistone principles we dare not censure, even though our began to think the young lady had chosen that sense tells us of their unsound state. An Irish-mode of eloping; but the man returned thanks woman never endures reproof or correction from an Englishman; his attempts to lead her in the true way can not be given without offending the morbid feelings so rife within her, which have been falsely denominated 'pride.' When the smiles of a pretty girl, and one of the 'despised race,' as they call our Irish neighbours, have changed the steady royalist, my brother, into a defender of rebels and palliator of treason,

"I expect a letter from my sister," answered Maitland. "If you will wait ten minutes, we can go together."

Stephen complied. The young lad sought the orderly; while his companion stood, with arms folded, gloomily gazing on the ground. A noise of horses' feet came rapidly towards him; he heard, but did not raise his head until a figure on horseback almost flew past him, alone and unattended. He could not think who the lady might be, so dignified in her erect position, and disdaining the customary protec| tion of the other sex. Stephen puzzled himself to discover, and might have reasoned that he had seen a spirit of days departed; but a groom approached, riding at a more rational pace, and drew up before the officer, inquiring, "Did Miss M'Dermott, sir, pass this way, riding?" "I have seen a lady pass; but could not tell whether she was angelic or earthly."

as he went on, saying, "Miss Zenobia rides so quickly over the country that it would break a man's heart to keep up with her."

Ten minutes more passed, and Captain Osbaldistone, thinking he had waited long enough, set out on his walk in the same direction which the equestrians had taken. For a mile he proceeded, and met none who attracted his attention. Stephen was about to return, when a

Stephen walked over the grave-stones heedlessly: he recked not that he trampled on the remains of many who had been young and generous; he was wondering how the timid, reserved, modest girl, could exhibit as horseracer before a multitude. He turned and walked up the chancel, attracted there by the remnants of an altar, which stood under the eastern window. It was a delicious scene; the sun streamed in through a narrow side-window, and cast a beam on a solitary flag-stone, which, by its remnants of sculpture and the mitre at its head, told that an abbot reposed beneath. Stephen forgot all, and revelled in the memories of antiquity: his left hand grasped a broken pillar, which had once supported a corner of the altar.

winding in the road shewed him the picturesque remains of an abbey, half covered with ivy; and a little to one side a round tower, so proud and solemn, stood, mourning in its solitude over the remnants of days long passed. One sight of the ruins, so lone and beautiful amid neglect, determined the young man to loiter half-an-hour, feeding his romantic temperament there: then his own soul whispered that he was not unlike the isolated tower, so dark and rigid, without one to watch over its decline or death. Soon the magnificent abbey rose full on his sight; the window, perfect in every stone, seemed to defy time's ravages; and the clustering ivy filled up many a chasm in the mouldering walls. He passed the porch and started as his eye fell on two horses fully caparisoned, yet without riders, standing on the grass beyond the door-way: a groom leaned lazily with his head on the saddle of one horse, and the rein of the other across his arm. Captain Osbaldistone recognized the man who had inquired of him at the barrack-stone-gods of man's own creation; many a gate, and accosted him.

"You have found Miss M'Dermott, it appears?"

"Yes, sir," answered the servant, standing up and laughing; "only that Miss Zenobia took a notion to stop somewhere, I might have been riding till night without overtaking her; she goes like the wind. I found Sunbeam' tied to that tree down there."

The officer smiled, and walked round to inspect the lady's horse.

"Sunbeam' is a beautiful creature," he said, "but rather impetuous I should think for a lady."

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"Bless you, sir, that's the thing for Miss Zenobia. Sunbeam' is a beauty over a five-foot wall; he takes it flying. And since he won the race, last year, my young lady is very fond of him."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Captain Osbaldistone, interested by the groom's loquacity; " and who

rode him?"

"Miss Zenobia, to be sure, sir. It was a lady's race for a gold-mounted whip; she beat them hollow, and distanced Miss Singleton on 'Romeo,' who was thought the first rider in those parts."

"Do you mean to say that Miss M'Dermott rides races on the public course?"

"Oh, no, sir; Lord bless you, Miss M'Dermott is not inclined that way; but it is Miss Zenobia that does everything. They were private races on Mr. Singleton's grounds; but the whole world was there."

Stephen uttered a monosyllable resembling dissatisfaction, and pursued his way among the ruins. The groom looked after his receding figure with apparent contempt; at length he broke out-"Sulky chap that fellow, I think; and I'll be bound he's English: not to say 'thank you,' after asking me all the questions. I'll remember him again; but those soldiers have no manners." And with this consoling reflection he laid himself down again to wait for his mistress.

"Yes," he cried aloud, "Ireland has a spell in the very air. Much as I despise bigotry, and detest popery, yet I feel infected with superstition. Many a knee has bent here to wood and

heart has been prostrated here in blind idolatry to saints and pictures; yet a sacredness breathes in this air of desolation! I almost wish I could feel thus for ever. Ireland! thou land of errors-of memories-of gross superstition, and priestridden atrocities! Thou country of crime and tumult-of pride and starvation-of green fertility and romantic legends! Not one leaf of yon green ivy would I disturb. There is a lesson to be learned in everything around, and, while I hate you, I cannot help loving

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Stephen paused, struck dumb; almost he believed that a spirit was about appearing to vindicate her country's name, for a sigh, deep and thrilling, came from above him, and was echoed through the silent arches. A branch of ivy fell at his feet; he looked up to the place whence the sound had proceeded, and saw a fairy hand vanishing through a window. The thought of a spiritual visitation passed away immediately, and another second saw the grave, steady Captain Osbaldistone climbing a broken staircase close by, to discover the owner of that white hand; but when he arrived at the window, there was no trace of any visitor, nor any sigh, save the melancholy moaning of the wind through the long passage. He bore the ivy testimonial with him, and treaded quickly in search of some one. After a few minutes he was astonished to find himself at the entrance by another route; the horses and groom had left, but the marks were yet fresh in the soft grass where the impatient Sunbeam' had pawed the ground while waiting for his mistress.

"How stupid I am, to be sure," muttered the officer, "not to have remembered that girl's vicinity. She, who speaks so nobly and acts so unfemininely, a horse-racer!" And with a contemptuous motion of his shoulders the young man set about returning to the barracks. When not quite half-way, Maitland came hastening to meet him.

"I hope you have had pleasant letters," said Stephen. "I walked on and viewed the ruins; they are very beautiful and romantic.”

"Yes, I have had such a letter from iny | be made love to. A short time and you would sister. She is quite lonely without me: perhaps have discovered the mechanical process of you think me fickle, but I am half sorry I ever getting on,' as they term it. Mix with them, thought of the army; one misses the calm laugh with them; but tell your affections to the pleasure of domestic society. An officer's life fair sex, who never hear a word of home from a may be the gayest and most admired; but I have young man but they think how invaluable will certainly found it the most solitary, most heart- he be as a husband. I have never made love less situation I have ever been placed in. Every to a girl. I am not too old to do so; yet I one mocks my inexperience, and derides my feel old." dearest feelings: excepting yourself, I have not found one to speak a word which seemed to class me as a fellow-man. I know I am a boy in years; but I can not be one for ever. Will you be my friend?"

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"Most willingly, my dear boy," answered Captain Osbaldistone, as he leaned on the arm of his companion, smiling with bright intelligence and kindness, which poured balm on the sensitive youth, as well as invited his confidence, while his manner told he duly appreciated it; "and now hear my advice," he continued, "but do not follow my example. I am an old, careless, severe, but honest person; I began life under different auspices. In my childhood I learnt that I was unwelcome-a second son could only rob my elder brother of a portion of his wealth my ambitious mother whispered it in my infant ear; and even then, my silent smile and sorrowful lament-till I wished I were a girldid not win one caress. I grew up, as you see me now, cold, cynical, and indifferent; another brother had been added to us, whose fair hair and blue eyes wakened the love of a mother's heart. I was delighted when they sent me abroad as an ensign: I knew no tie which endeared me to home; my gravity had become so natural that none inquired the cause; even the gentler sex never bestowed a thought on my care-worn heart. My brother joined me; he is, you see, a frivolous man of fashion, his mother's child; but sacrificed to the ambition of her house. Percy is a general favourite with ladies, I hear; yet is he as false as base metal. I could have loved him, but he scorns my affection. Now you are different: the idol of home, you have come among a set of men, who, to be learned in their profession, must forswear home, the ties of relationship, and the freshness of youth. Another state might have suited you better; but do not despair, there are qualities within every man which can make him fill any station with credit. Your ingenuousness must be checked: it is an admirable virtue, but requires correction. Express little of what you feel; feelings and sentiments are considered mawkish-fitted only for women and love-sick youths. We must dissemble, Maitland. Nay, start not; I do not mean to speak falsely, or act otherwise than nobly; to do either would stamp you as a dishonourable man; and a man without integrity will make a bad soldier. But be silent before a scoffer, and never put forth your private motives, when none have cared enough about you to ask them. In the company of men of the world do not indulge in recollections of home or family: they only tolerate such when you have a father who can give money to you, or sisters that may

"Any woman might adore you, I think," said Maitland, with enthusiastic gratitude sparkling in his eyes; "I wish my sister were your wife; Agnes is a sweet girl, young, pretty, and without vanity-simple as a child; she is my only and twin sister. But I do not see a nice girl in this country; indeed I have seen none, and heard only of Miss Singleton. Is she nice?"

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Percy says so; but I think her affected, a spoiled child and self-willed-things which I dislike in woman; yet she is pretty, and more knowing than he thinks. There are some very elegant women about here; I know of none more generally pleasing and attractive than Irishwomen, when well-bred: do not speak with either prejudice or injustice of them. They merit an unbiassed opinion in their own country at least."

"That reminds me," interrupted Maitland, "I met such a beauty just now; flying like a bird along the road: she took a leap over that ditch yonder, and looked so perfectly at ease that I could not believe my eyes. A country; man told me it was Miss Zenobia, and walked away. So I think it must be some mad-woman, who has adopted a pagan name."

"Quite wrong," laughed Captain Osbaldistone; "I know the lady in question-she is neither mad nor heathen, but a little strange and uncertain; eccentric, as are all the Irish. Miss Zenobia M'Dermott is a girl you would admirea woman you might respect. I can introduce you at Singleton's ball, if you do not meet before that time."

"I shall remind you," answered Maitland; "but why put that ivy in your pocket?"

A memory of the abbey," replied Captain Osbaldistone, coldly. "You see I have not outlived my romance. Here we are at the barrack.”

"Where I shall profit by your advice," murmured the young ensign, "and render myself a worthy pupil of yours. I wish I were your brother, or nephew."

"I wish, with all my soul, you were the latter," said Stephen. 'My eldest brother, Sir Harold, has no family, though he has been married for years to an heiress-making I believe an indifferent protector. My mother has latterly become anxious that I should go to England, and marry in the slave-market of fashionable London; but I do not intend being obedient to a command at thirty. Here we are, the boy and his bachelor uncle.'"

Stephen laughed a cold, dry, joyless laugh; and the young lad shook his hand as they separated.

(To be continued.)