There are natures to whom the opening of any new vista in life suggests fully as much of pleasure as anxiety. The prospect of the unknown and the untried has something of the adventurous about it which more than counterbalances the casualties of a future. Such a temperament was hers; and the first sense of sorrowful indignation over, she really began to speculate upon her cottage life with a certain vague and dreamy enjoyment. She foresaw, that when Cro' Martin Castle fell into other hands, that her own career ceased, her occupation was gone, and that she should at once fashion out some new road, and conform herself to new habits. The cares of her little household would probably not suffice to engage one whose active mind had hitherto embraced so wide a field of action, and Mary then bethought her how this leisure might be devoted to study and improvement. It was only in the eager enthusiasm of her many pursuits that she buried her sorrows over her neglected and imperfect education; and now a time was approaching when that reflection could no longer be resisted. She pondered long and deeply over these thoughts, when suddenly they were interrupted; but in what way, deserves a chapter of its own,--albeit a very brief one. CHAPTER XVIII. MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST “What card is this?--who left it?” said Mary, as she took up one from her breakfast-table. “It is a gentleman that came to the inn late last night, miss, and sent a boy over to ask when he could pay his respects at the castle.” “'Mr. Herman Merl,'--a name I never heard of,” muttered Mary to herself. “Doubtless some stranger wishing to see the house. Say, whenever he pleases, George; and order Sorrel to be ready, saddled and at the door, within an hour. This must be a busy day,” said she, still speaking to herself, as the servant left the room. “At Oughterard before one; a meeting of the Loan Fund--I shall need some aid for my hospital; the Government order for the meal to be countersigned by a justice--Mr. Nelligan will do it. Then there 's Taite's little boy to be balloted for in the Orphan House; and Cassidy's son to be sent up to Dublin. Poor fellow, he has a terrible operation to go through. And I shall need Priest Rafferty's name to this memorial from the widows; the castle authorities seem to require it. After that, a visit to Kyle-a-Noe, to see all my poor sick folk: that will be a long business. I hope I may be able to get down to the shore and learn some tidings of poor Joan. She never leaves my thoughts, and yet I feel that no ill has befallen her.” “The gentleman that sent the card, miss, is below stairs. He is with Mr. Crow, at the hall-door,” said George. “Show him into the drawing-room, George, and tell Mr. Crow to come here, I wish to speak to him.” And before Mary had put away the papers and letters which littered the table, the artist entered.