"Yes, I think so," replied the housekeeper, in a more doubtful tone than he liked. "She will never refuse to go, surely. I will persuade her, somehow; and love will take part with me. Oh, yes, she will come, I am sure. But now I will go; and, before to-morrow morning, I must contrive to have the locks well oiled and the key placed for you.--Good-bye, my dear boy. Be upon your guard against whatever Sir John proposes; for you cannot tell what scheme may be at the bottom of anything he says or does." I must not pause to notice all the mingled feelings which occupied the heart of the young nobleman after the old housekeeper had left him. They were agitating enough; and, though her words were well calculated to encourage hope of the speedy fulfilment of his warmest desires, yet they plunged him in thoughtful reveries during the day, which did not escape the keen eye of Sir John Newark. Smeaton saw, however, that his absent mood, and grave and thoughtful countenance, were remarked; and he turned suspicion from the course he feared it might take, by expressing much surprise that he had received no answer from Lord Stair. Emmeline, too, marked change in his demeanour, and was somewhat anxious, if the truth must be told; but, for her an explanation was coming very soon. I wish that I could, but fear that I cannot, convey to the mind of the reader the feelings with which she listened to the words of the old housekeeper when Mrs. Culpepper visited her that night. I dread that I may suggest, even in the least degree, an idea that she was unwomanly, forward, or bold, when I say that the thought of seeing Smeaton on the following morning in private imparted no other emotion than joy; yet so it was. Emmeline's character, however, was eminently feminine, in the finest, noblest signification of that word. The idea of a clandestine interview with her betrothed made her whole heart thrill; it agitated, almost overpowered her; but it was all with joy. Her education had involved none of the conventional restraints of women in her class of society; restrained, tied down, she had been, though in a different way. She knew not, she could not conceive, that anything was wrong, anything that could be even construed into wrong, in thus meeting him she loved. Her spirit sprang to meet his, to tell him all she felt, to pour into his bosom the pent-up thoughts of the last week. She could as much have fancied that a skylark could be blamed for trilling his glad song in air over the nest of his feathered mate, as she could be by the good and wise for that which she was about to do. The world is full of conventionalities, which have ever been accumulating since the creation; they are the fetters of the fallen. Adam and Eve found them out as soon as they had tasted the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil; and the green leaves which they twined to cover them formed the first sophistication. But dear