Her old father, Gerald Mac Allain, had, with the Duke’s permission, promised her hand in marriage to a young man in the neighbourhood, much esteemed for his good character. Linden had long considered himself as an approved suitor. When, therefore, he was first informed of the change which had occurred in her sentiments, and, more than all, when he was told with every aggravation of her misconduct and duplicity, he listened to the charge with incredulity, until the report of it was confirmed from her own lips, by an avowal, that she thought herself no longer worthy of accepting his generous offer,—that to be plain, she loved another, and wished never more to see him, or to hear the reproaches which she acknowledged were her due. “I will offer you no reproaches,” said Linden, in the only interview he had with her; “but remember, Miss Mac Allain, when I am far away, that if ever those who, under the name of friend, have beguiled and misled you, should prove false and fail you,—remember, that whilst Linden lives, there is one left who would gladly lay down his life to defend and preserve you, and who, being forced to quit you, never will reproach you: no, Alice—never.” “Gerald,” said Lady Margaret, on the morning when Alice was sent in disgrace from the castle, “I will have no private communication between yourself and your daughter. She will be placed at present in a respectable family; and her future conduct will decide in what manner she will be disposed of hereafter.” The old man bent to the ground in silent grief; for the sins of children rise up in judgment against their parents. “Oh let me not be sent from hence in disgrace,” said the weeping girl; “drive me not to the commission of crime.—I am yet innocent.—Pardon a first offence.” “Talk not of innocence,” said Lady Margaret, sternly: “those guilty looks betray you.—Your nocturnal rambles, your daily visits to the western cliff, your altered manner,—all have been observed by me and Buchanan”—“Oh say not, at least, that he accuses me. Whatever my crime, I am guiltless, at least, towards him.” “Guiltless or not, you must quit our family immediately; and to-morrow, at an early hour, see that you are prepared.” It was to Sir Everard’s house that Alice was conveyed. There were many reasons which rendered this abode more convenient to Lady Margaret than any other. The Doctor was timid and subservient, and Count Gondimar was already a great favourite of the youngest daughter, so that the whole family were in some measure, in Lady Margaret’s power. Her ladyship accordingly insisted upon conveying Alice, herself, to Lady St. Clare’s house; and having safely lodged her in her new apartment, returned to the castle, in haste, and appeared at dinner, pleased with her morning’s adventure; her beauty more radiant from success.