the
interview which was about to take place between him and his noble
friend. The day, though calm, as we said, was nevertheless without
sunshine, and, consequently, that joyous and exhilarating spirit of
warmth and light which the vernal sun floods down upon all nature,
rendering earth and air choral with music, was not felt so powerfully.
On the contrary, the silence and gloom were somewhat unusual,
considering the mildness which prevailed. Every one, however,
has experienced the influence of such days--an influence which,
notwithstanding the calm and genial character of the day itself, is felt
to be depressing, and at variance with cheerfulness and good spirits.

Be this as it may, Sir Thomas was proceeding leisurely along, when a
turn of the road brought him at once upon the brow of the small valley
from which the residence of the Cullamore family had its name--Glenshee,
or, in English, the Glen of the Fairies. Its sides were wild, abrupt,
and precipitous, and partially covered with copse-wood, as was the
little brawling stream which ran through it, and of which the eye of
the spectator could only catch occasional glimpses from among the hazel,
dogberry, and white thorn, with which it was here and there covered.
In the bottom, there was a small, but beautiful green carpet, nearly,
if not altogether circular, about a hundred yards in diameter, in the
centre of which stood one of those fairy rings that gave its name
and character to the glen. The place was, at all times, wild, and so
solitary that, after dusk, few persons in the neighborhood wished to
pass it alone. On the day in question, its appearance was still and
impressive, and, owing to the gloom which prevailed, it presented a
lonely and desolate aspect, calculated, certainly, in some degree, to
inspire a weak mind with something of that superstitious feeling which
was occasioned by its supernatural reputation. We said that the baronet
came to a winding part of the road which brought this wild and startling
spot before him, and just at the same moment he was confronted by
an object quite as wild and as startling. This was no-other than a
celebrated fortune-teller of that day, named Ginty Cooper, a middle-aged
sibyl, who enjoyed a very wide reputation for her extraordinary insight
into futurity, as well as for performing a variety of cures upon both
men and cattle, by her acquaintance, it was supposed, with fairy lore,
the influence of charms, and the secret pr