Roseline, by the urgency of her entreaties, frequently obtained leave of the abbess for Madeline de Glanville to visit at the castle. This favour was the more readily granted, from her having observed with real regret that some secret grief preyed on the mind of her young charge, which, though she could not help commiserating, she did not choose to mention. Those days, which the fair Madeline spent at the castle, were the happiest she had ever known; while there, she was gay and cheerful as the youthful companions who studied to amuse and entertain her. The song, the dance, the lute, drove from her remembrance the gloomy nunnery in which she was condemned to waste and linger out her future life. Sir Philip and Lady de Morney treated her with the tenderness and indulgence of parents; the friendship and affection between her and Roseline was mutual and sincere; for Edwin she felt, as she innocently supposed, the fond regard of a sister. All the younger branches of the De Morney family rejoiced to see her, and gladly assisted in rendering her happy; and when the hour arrived for the unfortunate Madeline to return to the nunnery, whilst she observed with secret gratitude the gloom it threw on the countenances of her friends, it gave additional pangs to the feelings of her own heart; her spirits instantly deserted her, and tears of unfeigned regret marked the sad moment of departure. When she re-entered her solitary cell, she would sink into a despondency which the austere rules of the order was not likely to conquer. The inhabitants of the castle and its environs were in themselves a little commonwealth, which contained a vast variety of characters. Men of different nations were met together, and, by the unaccountable effects of accident, ambition, or necessity, brought into the same habits, and lived cordially together, serving one master; and, united by one cause and interest, the utmost harmony prevailed among them; for Sir Philip de Morney was a just and active governor; gentle as the lamb and forgiving as mercy to the virtuous or injured,--but a terror and a stern master to the traitor or oppressor, whether friend or foe: he knew the importance of his situation, and how much the happiness of others depended on the careful and faithful discharge of those duties belonging to his high station, and intrusted to him by his noble friend the Earl of Norfolk; he therefore wisely and justly determined not to be biassed nor misled, either by the partiality or designs of other men, nor to suffer any prejudice to gain ascendancy over his mind in the rewards he bestowed, or the punishments which guilt would sometimes compel him to inflict. CHAP. II