be the strokes of a cane or horse-whip. “God of Heaven and of earth!” groaned out the captain, “what means all this? To what am I doomed!”—“My dear captain,” said the almost breathless Lady Maclairn, who now approached with some remedy, “have patience, all shall be explained. Your sister has been to blame; she is sensible of it: she bitterly repents of her violence: she has suffered, severely suffered for it; all will still be well, only have patience.” He heeded her not, but with a look of horror and apparent calmness, he surveyed for some moments the marks of the outrage which had been committed; then wrapping the shawl round the still insensible girl, he attempted to raise her in his arms; but they refused the office. Miss Flint now ventured to open the door, to order the servants to be summoned, and to carry Mary upstairs, loudly reprehending us for exposing her to the air. “Shame to thy sex, begone!” cried the captain with fury. “Urge me not, thou barbarian! But art thou not here to exult over thy victim?” He again drew off the shawl. “This is Howard’s child, Lucretia!” continued he, “this is thy sister’s orphan!” A heavy sigh from Mary drew his attention again; he attempted to raise her; but his limbs trembled to that degree, that he was forced to desist. The prompt, the ever-succouring Allen gave Malcolm a sign. He took Mary in his arms, and carried her to my room, followed by Mrs. Allen. The captain was on the point of doing so likewise, when Miss Lucretia darting towards him, and catching his coat, exclaimed, “You _shall_ hear me! She provoked me.”—No language can convey to you, Lucy, the expression with which he replied. “Yes! I doubt it not! So did her hapless virtuous mother! so did her noble-minded father!” He paused, and raising his eyes to Heaven, moved his lips as though in silent ejaculation. “No,” said he in a solemn tone of voice, “I will not curse her! But,” added he, “_God_, Lucretia, will call you to answer for this deed!” “Hear me! only hear me!” screamed she. “I only punished her _insolence_. I will justify myself!”—“Never canst thou do _that_,” replied he, “where humanity resides.” He broke from her and turned into the garden. A violent fit succeeded to Miss Flint’s efforts; the servants with difficulty conveyed her, in her struggles, to her apartment, from whence even I heard her screams. On entering my room, I found Miss Howard laid on the bed, and much recovered though weeping. “What confusion! what mischief have I occasioned!” said she addressing me. “Who was it, my dear Miss Cowley, who took off my things? Was it not my uncle? How unfortunate that I could not get up stairs!”—“Say not so,” observed the soothing Mrs. Allen, “but rather, my clear child, be thankful to Providence who has thus seasonably checked your aunt’s violence; such a temper required it.” Mr. Flint entered the room, no longer was his face gloomy, and his eyes sparkling with rage. He was