‘Pity and sympathy,’ repeated the woman, with bitter sarcasm; ‘they are qualities that none but fools would retain possession of; I never experienced them from any person yet, and I have banished mine from my breast many years since.’ ‘I do believe you,’ sighed Inez; ‘but I can sincerely pity _you_, for there will be a time come when you will be brought to a terrible sense of your iniquities, and awful will then be the punishment you will have to undergo.’ ‘Hey day!’ exclaimed the beldame; ‘I declare you’re quite an adept at preaching a sermon, but its beauties are entirely lost upon me; and I do not think that you will find Mr. Blodget any more ready to approve of them than I am.’ ‘Leave the room,’ said Inez, in a tone of resentment, ‘and let me alone to my reflections; your language is brutal, and I will not listen to it.’ ‘But I am afraid you will have to listen to it very frequently,’ returned the old woman, ‘as disagreeable as it may be. As for leaving the room, you will please to recollect that you are not mistress here, consequently I shall not attend to your orders until it pleases me.’ Inez walked away, and throwing herself into a chair, once more covered her face with her hands, determined not to pay any future attention to what the old harridan might say. The latter laughed sneeringly, and after muttering a few spiteful remarks that our heroine did not hear, she applied herself more assiduously to the task she had to perform in the room, and at the same time hummed, in discordant tones, snatches from different vulgar songs, which fell listlessly upon the ears of Inez, who was too deeply engaged by her own melancholy thoughts to pay any attention to them. At length having, much to the satisfaction of our heroine, completed her domestic duties in the room, the woman fixed upon Inez a spiteful look, and then retired from the apartment. When she had gone, our heroine immediately sunk upon her knees, and, with upraised hands, she implored the mercy of the Supreme Being, and that He would protect her father and her lover from any danger by which they might be threatened. She arose more composed and confident, and endeavored to hope that, after all, the wicked designs of Blodget might be foiled, and that something would yet transpire to release her from her present incarceration, and the future persecution of the villain Blodget, for whom no punishment could be adequate to the different crimes he had been guilty of. Frequently did her thoughts revert to home, and she could well imagine the grief experienced at her mysterious disappearance. The idea of the deplorable condition of Monteagle was maddening nay, perhaps he was no more, and she was not present to receive his last sigh, or to enfold him in a dying embrace.—The thought was almost past endurance; and it was a fortunate thing for our heroine that a torrent of tears came to the relief of her overcharged heart.