wept. Lady Margaret, from the day of their quarrel, cold and stern, ever arose to leave the room when Calantha entered it, and Mrs. Seymour seeing resentment kindling in her niece's eye, in the gentlest manner urged her to bear with her aunt's humour.
Lord Glenarvon had not written to Calantha for some days; he had left the castle; and she laboured under the most painful suspense. The narrative of Alice's sufferings was still in her possession. At length he sent for it. "My Calantha," he said, in a letter she received from him, "My Calantha, I have not heard from you, and my misery is the greater, as I fear that you are resolved to see me no more. I wish for the narrative in your possession; I know the impression it must make; and strange as it may appear, I almost rejoice at it. It will spare you much future sorrow; and it can scarce add one pang to what I already suffer. Had you accompanied me, it
