chain of fine gold, which I should never suspect to be the workmanship of American Indians." "It was probably given to Minoya," said Catherine, vexed by the unusual asperity of Talbot, and anxious for her own sake, to believe that no hand fairer than the Indian's had twined this trinket around the neck of Grahame's dog. "She has many baubles," added Catherine, "which you have seen me wear, and which might wonder to see adorning her person.' you Catherine blushed, as she met the eyes of Grahame fixed upon her, with a grateful and admiring expression, and she was not sorry that a summons to dinner just then, terminated the conversation. Grahame took possession of the chain, which O'Carroll yielded under the conviction that it could only belong to the lady, whose writing he had mistaken for that of Miss Spencer. The topic was not again renewed, and Talbot, conscious that from motives of pique and jealousy, he had displayed a degree of acrimony quite unbecoming, exerted himself to atone for it, by the affability of his manner towards Grahame; who without noticing the change, treated him with the same easy and wellbred politeness which uniformly marked his demeanour. Cheerfulness and vivacity prevailed, all seemed happy and disposed to gaiety, and the dinner hour passed pleasantly, and but too swiftly away. 10* CHAPTER VIII. Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth. Shakspeare. SINCE the evening of Captain O'Carroll's conversation with Colonel Grahame, he had notwithstanding the malicious insinuations of the stranger, compelled himself to dismiss every suspicion; and ashamed of his injustice, he conducted himself towards the Colonel with even more cordial and friendly interest than before. He still thought, with some surprise, of the writing which had so exactly resembled that of Marion Spencer; and felt a desire to see the lady, with whom Grahame held so secret and mysterious an intercourse. Fearful, however, of being thought a spy upon his actions, and averse to another unsatisfactory encounter with the singular being, who, he began to suspect, was actuated by motives of the worst kind, he almost deserted his favorite walk on the confines of the forest, except occasionally, when he accompanied the ladies in a morning excursion. In the mean time, several weeks passed rapidly away, and Talbot was the declared lover of the happy Amelia. Major Courtland, compelled to renounce the hope of his union with Catherine, could not refuse to sanction his addresses to Amelia, though he scarcely, till then, knew the depth of his disappointment, or the confidence with which he had presumed on Catherine's final compliance with his wishes. Happy in the fulfilment of her cousin's hopes, and assured that so calm and rational an affection would produce permanent and increasing happiness, Cathe rine persuaded herself that her father could not long continue to regret the disappointment, which had proved so fortunate for Amelia. Convinced also, that her own hopes were destined to be destroyed, she sought to wean them from the object, on whom, before she was herself aware, she had been startled to find them deeply fixed. Her father's health too, which seemed to be declining, increased her uneasiness and alarm; and anxious to atone for the regret which she had caused him, as well as desirous to try the effect which change of air and scene might produce upon his constitution, she listened without opposition to his proposal of returning to England. Nay, she even urged his going, conscious that her wishes only had detained him for so long a time in America, and desirous to express her gratitude for his indulgence, by a cheerful compliance with his inclinations. Although Major Courtland had been, for so many years an inhabitant of the New World, he still retainedthe hereditary estates, which had descended to him. through many generations, and for which he cherished a veneration and respect, so great that even the idea of their becoming the property of a stranger, seemed to him almost sacrilegious. They yielded him a handsome revenue, which was annually transmitted by his agent; and though the wish, that his remains should rest beside the wife whom he had early lost, and still lamented, continued firm, he was desirous to spend some years amidst the scenes and friends of his youth, and take of them a last farewell before he left them, to return no more. He hoped also, there to form for Catherine, a connexion suitable to her birth, and which should effectually weaken the partialities, and sever the ties, which now bound her so strongly to America. The attentions of Colonel Grahame, however, which he had once viewed with such jealous disapprobation, he began to consider, as the mere ebullitions of gallantry, such as a gay young soldier is ever wont to render to a beautiful and disengaged woman; else why had he made no serious proposals, when so many opportunities had occurred in which he might have declared himself? Catherine saw by her father's reviving cordiality to Grahame, that his suspicions were no longer awake; but she herself was conscious that the Colonel loved her passionately; and this certainty filled her heart with a calm and delicious pleasure, even while assured that her love was destined to prove unfortunate. She saw that Grahame was unhappy; from his own lips she had received the intimation, that cruel circumstances forbade the attainment of his wishes, though he had not revealed those circumstances, and had even said that he was not at liberty to do it. But so pure and disinterested was her love, that she preferred his honor to her own happiness, and unless the barrier which separated them could be removed, consistently with that perfect uprightness which she so much admired, she was content to have it remain; and to hide in the recesses of her own heart, the passion with which he had inspired her. Thus passed away the winter. The middle of March arrived, and the heralds of returning spring reminded Catherine, that the circle, which during the short cessation of hostilities, she had drawn around her, must soon be broken and dispersed. The reflection gave her pain, and the symptoms of reviving nature, which she had ever before hailed with rapturous delight, she now contemplated with sensations of melancholy regret. Not so O'Carroll. Though happy in his present situation, and sincerely attached to every member of the little society, with which for several months he had been so intimately connected; yet he longed to retread his native shores; and with the unrepressed enthusiasm of his character, he watched the slow progress of vegetation, and numbered the days and weeks, which must probably elapse before the green fields of Erin would again expand to his delighted eyes. He had applied, through the mediation of Colonel Grahame, for permission to return home in the spring, without rejoining the captured army, which was still waiting at Cambridge, for further orders; though many of the officers had already left it, and sailed for England. O'Carroll was desirous that Major Courtland should take passage in the same vessel with himself, and as he expected to sail from New York, he was continually urging him to make preparations for his departure, and repair to that city, in order to be in readiness for the first opportunity. The Major, however, as yet scarcely decided in his own mind, gave him no positive promise, and O'Carroll sometimes amused, but oftener vexed, by his vacillation, frequently left him, with a determination never again to renew his entreaties. One evening when he had been unusually importunate, and the Major unusually perverse, O'Carroll flung from him in a pet, and renewing his often formed, and often broken resolution, walked slowly to the garden, where from a slight eminence, he stood for some time watching the declining sun, which was sinking to rest, with the soft and mild splendor of a vernal evening. As its last rays sunk below the horizon, he turned to quit the spot; but the fragrant breeze was so delicious, the sky so bright and cloudless, that he felt a wish to extend his walk; and opening the small gate, at the extremity of the garden, he struck into the path which had been the scene of so many adventures, and which he had not visited in an evening, since his explanation with Grahame. The face of nature was rapidly changing from its late desolate and barren appearance. In many sheltered spots, the earth had assumed a hue of the brightest green, and among the forest trees, there were some already putting forth their tender foliage. The dark tassels of the elm, and the scarlet flowers of the maple were peculiarly conspicuous; and the willow and the alder were fringed with the long catkins, which burst forth under the earliest influences of spring. O'Carroll viewed with rapture, these lovely harbingers of reviving nature, and as he walked gaily forward, he thought, Before these trees which are now bursting into beauty, shall be again despoiled of their verdure, I shall have |