like the same mystery
which characterised her communications with Rashleigh. I had never heard
her mention Vaughan's name, or even allude to him, excepting on the
occasion of our first meeting, when she mentioned the old priest and
Rashleigh as the only conversable beings, besides herself, in
Osbaldistone Hall. Yet although silent with respect to Father Vaughan,
his arrival at the Hall never failed to impress Miss Vernon with an
anxious and fluttering tremor, which lasted until they had exchanged one
or two significant glances.

Whatever the mystery might be which overclouded the destinies of this
beautiful and interesting female, it was clear that Father Vaughan was
implicated in it; unless, indeed, I could suppose that he was the agent
employed to procure her settlement in the cloister, in the event of her
rejecting a union with either of my cousins,--an office which would
sufficiently account for her obvious emotion at his appearance. As to the
rest, they did not seem to converse much together, or even to seek each
other's society. Their league, if any subsisted between them, was of a
tacit and understood nature, operating on their actions without any
necessity of speech. I recollected, however, on reflection, that I had
once or twice discovered signs pass betwixt them, which I had at the time
supposed to bear reference to some hint concerning Miss Vernon's
religious observances, knowing how artfully the Catholic clergy maintain,
at all times and seasons, their influence over the minds of their
followers. But now I was disposed to assign to these communications a
deeper and more mysterious import. Did he hold private meetings with Miss
Vernon in the library? was a question which occupied my thoughts; and if
so, for what purpose? And why should she have admitted an intimate of the
deceitful Rashleigh to such close confidence?

These questions and difficulties pressed on my mind with an interest
which was greatly increased by the impossibility of resolving them. I had
already begun to suspect that my friendship for Diana Vernon was not
altogether so disinterested as in wisdom it ought to have been. I had
already felt myself becoming jealous of the contemptible lout Thorncliff,
and taking more notice, than in prudence or dignity of feeling I ought to
have done, of his silly attempts to provoke me. And now I was
scrutinising the conduct of Miss Vernon with the most close and eager
observation, which I in vain endeavour