objects-and he began to think vulgar peace and quietness very much to be wished for in this sublunary world. But with the usual perverseness of circumstances, at the very moment when he was most inclined to understand the full enjoyment of repose, adventures began to persecute him, as if to force on him the disagreeable lesson of how delightful is that very state of life which we are not suffered to taste! Of all situations in the world, the beautiful villa, of which he had now become an inhabitant, seemed to have been the best calculated for the abode of undisturbed serenity; but it was not destined to be so. Three days had elapsed since they had taken possession of their new habitation. They had had just sufficient time to become accustomed to its novelty. They had perambulated all the groundsthey had gone through every apartment in the house, and were gradually falling into their usual routine, which had been interrupted by their change of abode. "Oh, Frederic," said lady Mary to her brother, "I have been guilty of a most shameful piece of negligence-I am afraid you will not easily forgive me." "Am I so very implacable then, Mary ?” asked her brother. "Come, make me your confessor, and I will absolve you. Or have you written down the crimes you dare not speak in that letter you have in your hand ?" "No," answered Mary; "this is the cause of my offence: it is a letter I promised to give you from your old philosopher, as you used to call him, of whose death I gave you an account at Rome; but I have always forgot to give you the letter." Lord Burton took it, and glancing his eye over the first few lines" I will not read it now," said he; "it seems merely an expression of gratitude for the little kindness it was in my power to shew him, and and a recapitulation of the sorrows and misfortunes he endured through a long life. I cannot say at all I like tales of real woe. In fiction, let it be ever so highly wrought, our knowledge that it is fiction takes away greatly from any painful feeling; and it is seldom that we are more than interested in the best-told tale. By the way," he added, "I have somewhere a little ghost story,' given me by this very old philosopher; it interested me, I remember, at the time, and may amuse you. I will look for it some day." The whole party declared that there was no time like the present. It was a vacant evening; lady Anne was engaged with her netting, Mary with her work, and Charles was amusing his idleness with sketching a group of the whole circle. "If you would read it aloud to us, Frederic," said his sister," that would be a favour indeed; and I will promise you to be as frightened and interested as you could possibly expect or desire." "With all my heart," replied lord Burton, "if I can find it; but you need not be frightened unless you like, for I have no intention whatever of making you all turn your heads over your shoulders, every five minutes, to see if there is an apparition behind your chairs." The tale was not long in being found, and lord Burton proceeded to read it. Lord Burton was one of those men, on whose lips even trifles became forcible. It was not alone that he read well, but he read feelingly; and in many parts where, perhaps, had she read it to herself, Mary would hardly have been interested, she laid down her work to listen, and became entirely engrossed in the story with which he thus proceeded. CHAP. CHAPTER III. A thousand ills the traitor's mind infest, The Life of Sir William Wallace. The Wizard's Cave. It matters not in what age, or under the reign of what monarch, the events which form the subject of the present tale took place; nor signifies it what is its authenticity, or by whom it was told; the opinions and philosophies of this more enlightened age contradict the ancient superstitions which bear a principal part in the story; and what were the facts which originally did occur, and have since been perverted to their present form, is more than we can at |