same hour: the highest room in this turret is his apartment."

"Is it possible that Sir Hildebrand has not yet released and forgiven the offence of one so young?" said Eleonora.

"Sir Hildebrand's temper is very violent," replied Lady Blunt, with a sigh.

"Pardon me, my dear madam," rejoined Eleonora, "if I venture to say, that I think it a violence amounting almost to cruelty, if that poor boy has had no sustenance since yesterday noon, nor will be permitted any till that hour returns."

Lady Blunt sighed again, and more deeply than before.

"Do you think he has been without food or drink for the course of that time?” asked Eleonora.

"Oh, yes,” replied Lady Blunt, "no one dares to disobey Sir Hildebrand's commands."

Eleonora was sensibly touched by the sufferings of poor Edwin, and said, "Surely, if you, his mother, were to condescend to interfere

interfere with Sir Hildebrand, he could not refuse your request.

"It would be of no avail," answered Lady Thomasine; "if I were not certain of this, I should undoubtedly speak to him in his behalf, because I feel apprehensive that Edwin's punishment may continue till night, for my son passes the day from home; and as he will not be here at the hour of noon to sanction the act, no one will have the courage to let the boy out of his prison, or to supply his wants.”

"O Heavens!" exclaimed Eleonora; "in the course of that time he will faint, nay, almost die with want. Would I could see Sir Hildebrand, that I might myself endeavour to make an impression on his heart in the poor boy's favour."

"No, do not; pray do not attempt it," said Lady Blunt, regarding Eleonora with tenderness as she spoke.

For some moments they both ceased speaking, during which their eyes were fixed on the window of Edwin's chamber,

and they listened with pity to his sobs and

murmurs.

Footsteps passing behind her, attracted the attention of Eleonora; and on looking round, she beheld Sir Hildebrand equipped for his visit, and attended by a couple of his servants; by the direction in which he was moving, she knew him to be proceeding towards the stables; if, therefore, she did not avail herself of the present moment to intercede for the page, she knew that for the remainder of the day he must unavoidably be condemned to misery; she accordingly flew towards him. Sir Hildebrand perceived her approach, and slackened his pace, but without any salutation or mark of complacency calculated to give her courage in uttering her petition.

"Pardon me, Sir Hildebrand," she said; "I come to you a petitioner-I have a request to make of you." Her voice faltered, and she paused.

"For what?" exclaimed Sir Hildebrand, unmoved. "Your

66

"Your page, Edwin," resumed Eleonora; grant me your permission for his enlargement."

A smile stole over the features of Sir Hildebrand; but it was a smile which rather bespoke contempt of the sympathy which she expressed in the fate of the sufferer than accordance in her feelings. For some moments he stood viewing her with a fixed stare, which drew the mantling blood of confusion into her face; and then turning to his domestics, he said, "Go one of you, and let the boy out; but give him to understand, that he does not owe his enlargement to my forgiveness, but to a lady's tender feelings;" on these last words he laid a satirical emphasis; and when the servant was gone, he added, "Remember, Lady, you are a boon in debt to me, for the condescension I have shown you;" and increasing his smile, he left her.

Eleonora was delighted that she had obtained her request; but the sentence which Sir Hildebrand had addressed to her

as

as he quitted her, was a considerable drawback upon her pleasure; she, however, forbore to tell Lady Blunt more than that she had obtained Edwin's release.

As they proceeded in their walk, Eleonora felt extremely desirous of learning something from Lady Blunt respecting the apartment in which she had on the preceding evening seen the light, after she had supposed all the family retired to rest; she, however, considered that it might be deemed an impertinence in her to make a direct inquiry to that purport, and was, therefore, obliged to confine herself to such questions as she believed might lead to a developement of the truth.

In the turret were only two windows visible from the garden, and the apartments of Eleonora; the one through which the light had shone, and another above it, which she had just learned from Lady Thomasine to be the chamber of the page.

"That apartment," she said, "beneath

the