"I leant my back against an aik,
And thought it was a trusty tree.
But first it bowed, and syne it brake,
And so did my false love to me.
Oh, waly, waly! but love is bonny,
A little time, while it is new,

But it grows old, and waxes cauld,
And fades away like morning dew."

anxious, weary days to Mr Des

mond, and Kathleen was still

very ill. The flush on her cheeks, the feverish light in her eyes, had not

disappeared; her hands were still dry

VOL. I.

P

and burning, and the little slumber that visited her eyelids was full of strange dreams and delusions. Mocking faces seemed to bend over her and peer into her face, while strange noises rang in And amongst them she seemed to hear the sound of the stream, and

her ears.

its roar was

like surf on the sea

great longing came to

shore. And a great

her to be in the cool dim glen, with the rushing water and the deep, dark pools, where the heat of fever would leave her, and she could quench her burning thirst.

Mr Desmond scarcely left her side; he sat watching her pretty flushed face and brilliant eyes with an anxious, grave expression; and as he listened to the half muttered words and broken sentences that came from her fever-parched lips, some unwonted moisture dimmed his eyes. His

2

heart ached for his poor motherless daughter; he had striven to shield her from any harm or trouble, but all his efforts had been unavailing to avert this sorrow which had come upon her.

But though Kathleen lay thus for three days and nights, Lord Norwich never came; nor did he write or send a messenger. The fourth day Kathleen was better; she rested more quietly, and her slumbers were not disturbed by any wild dreams or visions. Mr Desmond saw with thankfulness that the fever had left her, and, though white and wan, she was able to smile when he asked her if she was better.

Kathleen's first thought had been a desire to know if Lord Norwich had come to inquire for her, and she waited for her father to speak; but when the days passed without Mr Desmond making any allusion to the

subject, Kathleen, in hesitating tones, asked the question which Mr Desmond had dreaded to hear. Had he seen or heard from Lord Norwich?

"No," Mr Desmond answered in as unconcerned a tone of voice as he could assume; "he had not seen or heard from him since the morning he left Glencullin House.”

Kathleen said no more; she turned her face to the wall, and lay quite still and silent, though hot tears had forced themselves into her eyes, and were running down her pale cheeks. Four days had elapsed since the beginning of her illness, and yet Lord Norwich had not come to inquire for her, or even sent to know if she were better. Was it that he took no interest in her welfare? Was her condition a matter of perfect indifference to him? He had gone away, leaving her ill, and though he was within

such a short distance, he had not thought of or wished to see her. There was no alternative to this except that he was ill or away; but Kathleen quickly put these thoughts from her; even if he had been prevented by any reason from coming to see her, he could have written a note of inquiry. It was that he had no wish to see her. He had wearied of her society, she told herself drearily, and then O'Brien's words came back painfully to her memory: "He may think it a very pleasant way of spending his time in a dull country quarter, but he will never care for you as much as I do." She had been very angry and indignant then, now it was forced upon her that his words had been true, for no other reason that presented itself to her mind accounted for his absence, save this. But low down in Kathleen's heart was a thought so painful and disagreeable that