have appointed our meeting for the ensuing week."
"I will walk no more with you to Inis Tara:—the harp sounds mournfully on those high cliffs:—I wish never more to hear it." "Have you seen St. Clara?" he said, without surprise. "She sings and plays well, does she not? But she is not dear to me: think not of her. I could hate her, but that I pity her. Young as she is, she is cruelly hardened and vindictive."—"I cannot fear her: she is too young and too beautiful to be as abandoned as you would make me think."—"It is those who are young and beautiful you should fear most," said he, approaching her more nearly.—"I may fear them," she replied, "but can you teach me to fly them?"
It was now late: very little else passed: they returned home, where they were received with considerable coldness. But Lady Mandeville, perceiving the state of suffering to which Calantha had reduced
