nce on a future career. The habits
of her education, all her early prejudices, disposed her to regard the
life of a soldier as the only one becoming a gentleman. The passion
for military glory, which the great victories of the Republic and the
Consulate had spread throughout Europe, penetrated into every remote
village of the continent, and even the prison-like walls of the convent
did not keep out the spirit-stirring sounds of drum and trumpet, the
tramp of marching hosts, and the proud clangor of war. It was a time
when the soldier was every thing. There was but one path in life by
which to win honour, rank, fame, and fortune. Even the humblest might
strive, for the race was open to all; or, in the phrase of the period,
every conscript left a spare corner in his knapsack for his future
"baton de marechal."

All she had ever seen of foreign society, partook of this character.
For, strangely enough, on the ruin of an aristocracy, a new and splendid
chivalry was founded--a chivalry, whose fascinations covered many a
wrong, and made many a bad cause glorious by the heroism it evoked! The
peaceful path in life was, then, in her estimate, the inglorious one.
Still, her proud nature could not brook defeat in any thing. It was not
without its influence upon the hearts and minds of her house, that the
eagle figured as their crest. The soaring bird, with outstretched wing,
careering high above his compeers, told of a race who once, at least,
thought no ambition above their daring; and she was worthy of the
haughtiest of her ancestors.

Too proud to enter into any detail of Herbert's failure, she dismissed
the subject as briefly as she could, and made her appearance in the
drawing-room without any perceptible change of manner; nor did she
appear to take any notice of the announcement made by Sir Marmaduke to
his son, that Hemsworth, who had just arrived from Scotland, would join
the family circle at dinner. Kate had never seen him, but his name was
long associated in her mind with anecdotes of oppression and cruelty
to her uncle--of petty insults and annoyances which the letters from
Carrig-na-curra used constantly to tell of, and of which her relatives
abroad had often descanted in her hearing. The picture she had drawn of
him in her own mind was not a flattering one--composed of features
and ingredients which represented all that was base, low-minded, and
treacherous--a vulgar sycophant, and a merciless tyrant. What was her