dear lady," said the old man in bitter grief. "Take care of Henry. Tell my father that I have been led to this step by utter despair. Let no one suspect your friendly aid. Lord Avondale, though he may refuse to see me, will not be offended with the kind hearts that had pity on my misfortunes." "God bless you, dear lady," again reiterated the old man, as the carriage drove swiftly from the gates.
But the blessing of God was not with Lady Avondale; she had renounced his favour and protection in the hour of prosperity; and she durst not even implore his mercy or his pardon in her present affliction. Thoughts of bitterness crowded together: she could no longer weep—the pressure upon her heart and brain would not permit it.
"Eh! dear heart, how the carriage rowls!" was the first exclamation which awoke her to a remembrance of her situation. "We are ascending the moun-
