“Old soldiers likewise honour the youthful royalist,”--interrupted Colonel Seaton, who had joined them--“and perhaps high honours await him on the morrow.” These words were not heard by young Tyldesley, who was gallantly paying his compliments to the lady. Her eye never wandered from the ground, even to gaze upon the handsome cavalier, until they had entered the great hall, and she was led by him to a seat in the recess, with the casement opening upon the woody precipices of the tower. She then stole a glance at him, as he gazed upon the scene without. He seemed agitated with some remembrance newly awakened. Anne’s eyes were still upon him, until, at length, he broke from his reverie. “Excuse my rudeness, fair lady:--the times prevent us from giving the attention we are proud to show. In the midst of courtesy, aye, and of tenderer duties, the trumpet calls us away, or some painful remembrance comes, like a cloud, over our joy. Three years ago I was cloistered within the walls of Oxford, striving successfully for literary honours. My sister,--fair and beautiful as the lady-love of a poet’s dream; and pure as an angel--for she transformed earth into a holy spot, and then fondly clung to every flower which grew there, of hope and love--came from home to visit me. It was towards sunset, in summer, when she entered my apartment. She rushed not forth to meet me, as was her wont. She was pale, and her golden ringlets were disordered;--but her countenance was intensely thoughtful, and she assumed all the affection of an elder sister, kissed my brow, and asked God to bless her brother Henry. Cold were her lips, as I fondly pressed them. I put her hand within my bosom, and encircled her slight frame with my arm. I begged her to tell me her distress. I had not a friend to inquire respecting; we were two orphans; and, therefore, I knew that the causes of her anguish were bound up in herself. ‘Oh! Eleanor,’ I said, ‘how different is this meeting from our last; in this very room, when you bounded in, all fondly and playfully, and gave me a kiss for every medal of honour I had won.--See,’ and I showed her many which I had won since--‘will you refuse me a sister’s reward?’ She bent forward--her arms were twined around my neck, when her head sunk on her bosom. ‘Oh! tell me!’ I exclaimed with an earnestness almost frantic, ‘why are you thus disturbed?’ She slowly raised her face, with a strange expression, and asked, ‘Does a nerve of my frame tremble, brother? do mine eyes drop one little tear? why, then, should ye suppose me distressed?’ Here a bell tolled suddenly--it was no requiem for the dead--but for a noble youth who was shortly to be so. “She started up, and exclaimed, ‘it is time!--brother, ask me not a question, but silently accompany me.’ “‘Where?’ I inquired. “‘To the place of execution!’