“That presence alone will do much. Your claim to interfere is a part of your birthright, and it is inalienable. You will have the countenance, doubtless, of your father's head-clerk, and confidential friends and partners. Above all, Rashleigh's schemes are of a nature that”--(she stopped abruptly, as if fearful of saying too much)--“are, in short,” she resumed, “of the nature of all selfish and unconscientious plans, which are speedily abandoned as soon as those who frame them perceive their arts are discovered and watched. Therefore, in the language of your favourite poet-- To horse! to horse! Urge doubts to those that fear.” A feeling, irresistible in its impulse, induced me to reply--“Ah! Diana, can _you_ give me advice to leave Osbaldistone Hall?--then indeed I have already been a resident here too long!” Miss Vernon coloured, but proceeded with great firmness--“Indeed, I do give you this advice--not only to quit Osbaldistone Hall, but never to return to it more. You have only one friend to regret here,” she continued, forcing a smile, “and she has been long accustomed to sacrifice her friendships and her comforts to the welfare of others. In the world you will meet a hundred whose friendship will be as disinterested--more useful--less encumbered by untoward circumstances--less influenced by evil tongues and evil times.” “Never!” I exclaimed, “never!--the world can afford me nothing to repay what I must leave behind me.” Here I took her hand, and pressed it to my lips. “This is folly!” she exclaimed--“this is madness!” and she struggled to withdraw her hand from my grasp, but not so stubbornly as actually to succeed until I had held it for nearly a minute. “Hear me, sir!” she said, “and curb this unmanly burst of passion. I am, by a solemn contract, the bride of Heaven, unless I could prefer being wedded to villany in the person of Rashleigh Osbaldistone, or brutality in that of his brother. I am, therefore, the bride of Heaven,--betrothed to the convent from the cradle. To me, therefore, these raptures are misapplied--they only serve to prove a farther necessity for your departure, and that without delay.” At these words she broke suddenly off, and said, but in a suppressed tone of voice, “Leave me instantly--we will meet here again, but it must be for the last time.” My eyes followed the direction of hers as she spoke, and I thought I saw the tapestry shake, which covered the door of the secret passage from Rashleigh's room to the library. I conceived we were observed, and turned an inquiring glance on Miss Vernon. “It is nothing,” said she, faintly; “a rat behind the arras.”