They at length became impatient, when night came on, and still, James was absent. They had heard the public crier announce that a general illumination of the town was to take place, and Alice thought that her brother might have appeared to assist in the arrangements. And now, when lights, many and brilliant, arose in the opposite windows, and crowds were passing in the streets, she proceeded, with a heavy heart, to give directions to the servants, and then anxiously sat down at the casement of her own apartment, not to view any object--save James. Private disappointments, however small, and in themselves contemptible, are fretted by public rejoicings; and as the bells rung out a merry peal, and music walked the streets, she only felt her loneliness the more. A knocking was heard at the door, and Alice flew down herself, to open it, and admit her brother to a well spiced scolding; if not (she was in doubts) to a more violent demonstration of her feelings. It was Katharine Norton, who had come to enjoy the company of her friend, as her maiden aunt had been so busy in asking questions at her servants, relative to the Pretender, his dress, and his general appearance, that she had entirely deserted the parlour for the kitchen, and her niece was thus left alone. They spoke of James, although Katharine occasionally paused, and introduced some other subject, lest he might arrive in the midst of their conversation; and she too well knew, that her mischievous companion would not scruple to inform him of its nature and subject; but he came not. “Katharine, what can we do to know where he is? He is not well, or it is not well with him. Something must have happened. Katharine, ‘_Beware of the Cockade!_’ The prophecy now rises to my mind. It must be true. I feel that it is. My brother is ardent, and romantic; and often has he expressed his sympathy with the unfortunate house of Stuart.”