ve vent
to her injured feelings in tears, but her countenance so clearly
expressed the emotions of her heart, that it actually startled a servant
who entered with a message--a request from Mrs. Hamilton, that her young
friend would spend that evening with her daughter and niece. Lilla
started up with a wild exclamation of delight, and the anticipation of
the evening hours enabled her to obey with haughty calmness the summons
of Miss Malison. Before, however, she departed on her visit, a fresh
ebullition had taken place between the sisters in the presence of their
mother, to the great terror of Lady Helen, whose irritation at Lilla's
violence increased, as she could perceive nothing in Annie's words or
manner to call for it. Had she been less indolent, she might easily have
discovered that her elder daughter never permitted a single opportunity
to escape without eliciting Lilla's irritability. As it was, she coldly
rejected the offered caresses the really affectionate girl would have
lavished on her, as she wished her good night, and therefore it was with
a heart bursting with many mingled emotions she sought the happy home of
her beloved friends.

There gladly will we follow her, for the scenes of violence and evil
passion we have slightly touched on are not subjects on which we love to
linger.

CHAPTER III.

There was thought, deep thought, engraved on Mrs. Hamilton's expressive
countenance, as she sat beside a small table, her head leaning on her
hand, anxious, perhaps even painful, visions occupying her reflective
mind. The evening was gradually darkening into twilight, but still she
did not move, nor was it till a well-known tap sounded at the door, and
her husband stood before her, that she looked up.

"Will you not let your husband share these anxious thoughts, my
Emmeline?" he said, as he gazed earnestly on her face.

"My husband may perhaps think them silly and unfounded fancies," she
replied, with a faint smile.

"He is so prone to do so," answered Mr. Hamilton, in an accent of
playful reproach; "but if you will not tell me, I must guess them--you
are thinking of our Caroline?"

"Arthur, I am," she said, with almost startling earnestness; "oh, you
cannot tell how anxiously! I know not whether I am right to expose her
to the temptations of the world; I know her disposition, I see the evils
that may accrue from it, and yet, even as if I thought not of their
existence, I expose her to them. Oh, my