the loss of my love! And not for the fear of eternal perdition—not for the hope of everlasting salvation, will I forego the joy of my mortal love! Now, hear me, girl!” She rose upon her feet, bending over Catherine, with her hand clutched upon the maiden’s shoulder with a vice-like grip, and, gazing into her eyes with contracted, gleaming pupils, she said,—while her voice dropped into the low, deep, stern tone of intense and concentrated passion, in which every word, syllable, letter was articulated with a distinct, metallic ring:—“Now, hear me! If you dare to come between me and my love—by the living Lord that sent my burning soul upon this dull earth, and who can hurl it hence to a burning perdition—I will find a way to kill you! Do you hear me?” Catherine grew pale beneath the tiger eye and clutch of the fearful woman, but she answered— “Madam, I have heard you utter wild and wicked words. I will endeavor to forget them.” “Remember them! You are warned!” And releasing her hold, the dark lady passed from the room. Catherine remained sitting where she had left her, appalled by the exhibition of demoniac passion she had witnessed. One pain and one fear possessed her above all others—deep regret that this most wicked woman had evidently already attained such an ascendancy over the mind of Clifton, and dread lest, in despite of all the sin, she would gain her object—his hand! But Catherine carried all her doubts and fears to her Heavenly Father. And soon to her clear, strong mind it became evident, that however wicked and unscrupulous, potent and dangerous the Circe might be on ordinary occasions, she possessed too little self-government, was under the influence of too strong and impetuous passions, to succeed in maintaining any long course of duplicity, such as would be necessary to the accomplishment of her purpose. And Kate became calm. She wished to leave the house. She could ill bear to live under the same roof with this woman, and meet her at least three times a day, at meals, if no oftener. But she had promised Major Clifton to remain with Mrs. Georgia until she should have other company, and she must keep her promise. It was, besides, doubly sacred, being made to him, and the pain it brought her was endurable—borne for him.