The abbey of Belfont, and the priory of St. Alvin, both the property of the Glenarvon family, were now, in consequence of the forfeiture of the late Earl of that name, transferred to Lord de Ruthven, a distant relation. The deserted priory had fallen into ruin, and Belfont abbey, as yet unclaimed by its youthful master, and pillaged by the griping hand of its present owner, exhibited a melancholy picture of neglect and oppression.—No cheerful fires blaze in its ancient halls; no peasants and vassals feast under its vaulted roofs.—Glenarvon, the hero, the lord of the demesne is dead:—he fell on the bloody field of Culloden:—his son perished in exile:—and Clarence de Ruthven, his grandson, an orphan, in a foreign land, has never yet appeared to petition for his attainted titles and forfeited estates.—Of relations and of friends he has never heard. Where are they who claim kindred with the unfortunate? Where are they who boast of friendship for the orphan that is destitute and in trouble? The Duke of Altamonte, whose domains were contiguous, and whose attachment extended to the son of his ancient friend, had ofttimes written to his sister enquiring into the fate of the child; but Lady Margaret had answered her brother’s letters with coldness and indifference. CHAPTER II. It is the common failing of an ambitious mind to over-rate itself—to imagine that it has been, by the caprices of fortune, defrauded of the high honours due to its supposed superiority. It conceives itself to have been injured—to have fallen from its destination; and these unfounded claims become the source of endless discontent. The mind, thus disappointed, preys upon itself, and compares its present lowliness with the imaginary heights for which it fancies itself to have been intended. Under the influence of these reflections, the character grows sullen and reserved, detaches itself from all social enjoyments, and professes to despise the honours for which it secretly pines. Mediocrity, and a common lot, a man of this disposition cannot bring himself to endure; and he wilfully rejects the little granted, because all cannot be obtained, to which he once aspired. In this temper, the Duke of Altamonte had retired from public affairs, and had quitted the splendour and gaiety of the court, to seek in retirement that repose which, of all men, he was the least calculated to appreciate or enjoy. In the society of the duchess, he found all that could sooth his wounded spirit. In Mrs. Seymour, the duchess’s sister, he welcomed a mild and unobtrusive guest; and the project of uniting the Lady Calantha Delaval, his only daughter, to her cousin William Buchanan, heir presumptive to the Dukedom of Altamonte, and son of his sister Lady Margaret Buchanan, for some time occupied his hours and engrossed his attention.