periors," replied the Steward, with affected calmness, but in deep wrath. "I warrant, my Lady has been teaching thee deference, and thou dost not relish thy mortification. Well, well, I (albeit I think it would work for thy good) can pity thy punishment, which no doubt thou deservest."

"Master Steward, thou liest doubly," retorted the Page, regaining his usual impertinent vivacity; "First thou liest, because thou sayest thou pitiest me, when thou knowest in thine heart, thou wouldst rejoice in my dismissal hence. Secondly, thou liest, in affirming that I deserve punishment. Nay thou hast lied thrice, for once thou hast lied by implication. I am here not for punishment, but security. I am charged to keep my Lady's apartment secure from all such intruders as thou," he added, posting himself immediately against the door.

"Respect in me thy Lord's chief domestic," stormed the angry Shirley;

nay, in thy Lord's absence, respect in me his representative.”

The Page scanned the Steward, glancing over his whole person, with an air of supreme contempt and derision: "Thou my Lord's representative !" he said. "Why, truly, in the matter of size, thou art large enough, in all conscience, to represent not only my Lord, but my Lady also; verily, thou art an apt emblem of the London body corporate!"

"And for thee, why thou wilt be in thy very noon of life, but a man in miniature!" retorted the Steward. "I will not, however, waste time, which is precious, in idly quibbling with thee; what hast thou done with my Lord's Secretary?”

The Steward was spared a reply more than usually galling, as the ineffable dis

dain which curled the lip of the Page indicated, by the appearance of Lewen and Father Valerius.

The brow of the Confessor lowered for an instant as he gazed on Shirley. "Then I infer," he said, addressing Lewen, as if continuing their conversation, "that, although recommended hither by so pious a Catholic as Archibald Shirley, your religious principles are immutably fixed?"

"Immutably!" repeated Lewen, obeying the signal of Shirley by retreating with him.

Valerius watched their departure. When the echo of their footsteps was no longer audible, he turned to the Page.

"What thinkest thou of this young man?" he asked.

"Oh, my Father!" replied the boy; "if he were such an one!"

"Mark me;" returned Valerius; "be

thy silence that of the grave; thy secrecy, that of the night; thy calmness, that of the dead. This is he!"

The Page turned very pale, and, for an instant, his breathing ceased; then he sighed convulsively; passed his hand over his forehead; withdrew it; and all was calm. "I shall feel thus no more, oh, my Father!" he said softly. " See how well I can bear it!"

The Confessor put his hand on the heart of the Page. "Why throbs it thus?" said Valerius; " and why is it so disquieted? Foolish child! Is not the vista opening to us, bright as Heaven! Go to! Be calm, and deserve thy fate! Let thy soul govern thy fortune, not

thy fortune thee! Remember; is he!":

ww

this

"This is he!" sighed the Page: They separated.

CHAPTER III.

"Nobly he yokes

A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was, for not being such a smile;
The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix

With winds that sailors rail at."

Shakspeare.

"He's young and tender,

And fit for that impression your affections

Shall stamp upon him. Age brings on discre

tion;

A year hence, these mad toys that now possess

him,

Will show like bugbears to him, shapes to fright
Beaumont.

him."

IT would be useless to trace, step by step, the progress which Lewen made in the favour of the Earl of Arding. In addition to the abstruse learning which distinguished that age, he possessed an abundance of information