knowledge of her fate. Her face, it is true, had become pale, but it was
the paleness of a calm but lofty spirit, and she replied, with a full
and clear voice:

"I said, sir--for I had her own sacred assurance for it--that my mother,
when she married you, had no previous engagement; it is not so with your
daughter--my affections are fixed upon another."

There are some natures so essentially tyrannical, and to whom resistance
is a matter of such extraordinary novelty, that its manifestation
absolutely surprises them out of their natural character. In this
manner Sir Thomas Gourlay was affected. Instead of flying into a fresh
hurricane of rage, he felt so completely astounded, that he was only
capable of turning round to her, and asking, in a voice unusually calm:

"Pray name him, Miss Gourlay."

"In that, sir, you will excuse me--for the present. The day may come,
and I trust soon will, when I can do so with honor. And now, sir, having
considered it my duty not to conceal this fact from your knowledge, I
will, with your permission, withdraw to my own apartment."

She paid him, with her own peculiar grace, the usual obeisance, and left
the room. The stem and overbearing Sir Thomas Gourlay now felt himself
so completely taken aback by her extraordinary candor and firmness, that
he was only able to stand and look after her in silent amazement.

"Well!" he exclaimed, "I have reason to thank her for this important
piece of information. She has herself admitted a previous attachment.
So far my doubts are cleared up, and I feel perfectly certain that the