past--some social eminence, independent even of her kind, beloved, self-constituted guardian. Nor did she long revolve these wishes, in silent, wistful reverie, amongst the bold cliffs, or in the deep, shady glens, with which the country about Dungar abounded, and which might have taught her truer and purer aspirations. Kate was a mere plaything--confidante, she had none--she was too young to find in books, sufficient companionship; when just as the dearth of excitement, and occupation was most oppressive, Major General Sir Thomas Desmond, K.C.B., arrived on a visit to Colonel Vernon. There was a scarcity of ladies at Dungar, when Sir Thomas Desmond made his appearance; and the Colonel, banishing Georgina, as too young to take any part in society, to Kate's particular region, the nursery and school-room, collected a shooting party for the General's entertainment. It was therefore more than probable, that he would leave, without ever encountering the "concealed jewel," of the old mansion, but it was otherwise fated. Wearied of her unusual seclusion, Miss O'Brien, one fine autumn morning, having watched the departure of the whole party, to shoot or fish, summoned her faithful squire, Pat Costello, and mounting a favourite hunter of the Colonel's, started on a long ride over the wildest part of the wild country round. Occupied by her own thoughts, she forgot time and distance, nor was it till honest Pat ventured to hint, that "maybe, Miss Kate would be cryin' for her," that she thought of returning. "It must be getting late, Pat--see, the sun is behind Craughmore." "It is so, miss." "Let us cross the Priest's field, and get into the lawn that way, the mare will take any of those fences--eh, Pat?" "Is it the mare? God bless ye, she'd walk over them without knowing it, miss." Miss O'Brien turned her horse's head without reply, and gradually quickening her pace, from a trot to a canter, from a canter to a gallop, finding a wild pleasure, in the rapid and easy movement of the beautiful animal, on which she was mounted, cleared the last fence which separated the priest's domains, from her guardian's, just as Sir Thomas Desmond, and two or three other gentlemen, the latest of the party were hastening their return to dinner, after a capital day's sport. "Ha! Colonel," exclaimed Sir Thomas, who narrowly escaped being overturned. "The race of Amazons is not yet extinct in the west, I perceive." "Georgina!" cried the Colonel. "I had no idea you were out, and on Brown Bess too! She will pull your arms off, my dear girl. Pat, I'm surprised you would let Miss O'Brien ride so fiery an animal." "Do not blame Pat, dearest Colonel--of course he did as I liked; besides, I can ride every horse in your stable." "And Pat would be more than mortal if he could refuse your commands," quoth the gallant General, with the gay manner, so often assumed by gentlemen of a certain age, to very young girls.