"My daughter is wedded to calm life, and loves no agitation beyond the ruffled lake. I believe her spirit would pine in the gay world." "So much the better, my good lady; her young mind is uncontaminated by the arts of a worldly life." "My endeavour is to preserve its purity, and watch over its happiness," replied her ladyship, sighing. At this moment the whole party became united again. Sir John Spottiswoode quitted Miss Fanny Ponsonby, and approached Christobelle. Lady Wetheral perceived the movement, and she turned hastily round. "My dear child, you are tired, you look pale. My lord, you have outwalked even your 'genius of the Lake.'" Lord Farnborough offered his arm, with many polite regrets. Christobelle declined it, courteously. She was quite equal to the walk;--she felt no fatigues. "Oblige me, my dear child," said Lady Wetheral, anxiously; "I cannot be satisfied unless you accept his lordship's assistance. My dear girl, make me happy." Christobelle could hesitate no longer. All eyes were upon her; she was actually in the way, and a remark from his Grace confused her. "My dear young lady, you stand there, turning all the young men's heads. Harry, take away your prize, for we are at fault till you proceed." Christobelle was led away, accordingly; and she saw no more of Sir John Spottiswoode, till they gained the shore of the lake. He was walking still with Miss Fanny Ponsonby, when she beheld him again. He was apparently explaining something to her comprehension, for she was leaning upon his arm, and he was pointing to the peak of Cona. Was he quoting Ossian to the beautiful Fanny Ponsonby, regardless of the party, and of the friend who would have listened so gladly? Did he mean to become the partner of Fanny Ponsonby, when he told her, in their early walk, that he should hear her own voice only on the terrace?--when he told her, _she_ would be appropriated by Lord Farnborough? A pang of jealousy pierced her heart at the moment, indescribably bitter; it was a pang so sudden, so tinctured with despair, that she closed her eyes, and pressed her hand tightly upon her heart. The movement attracted the notice of Lord Farnborough. "I fear you are ill, indeed, Miss Wetheral. I am sure you have found the descent very fatiguing." "I _am_ rather ill," exclaimed Christobelle, still keeping her eyes closed. She could not endure the light, or the figures which flitted before her. She felt extremely giddy; so much so, she was apprehensive of falling. An exclamation from her companion caught the ear of Lady Wetheral, who was immediately at her daughter's side. Christobelle was placed upon a bank, and she leaned against her mother's shoulder. She waved away the gentlemen. "Let no one come near me, mamma. Let no one speak to me, just now."