before he could reach the entrance: he coasted the dry and
bramble-grown moat, crossed the unguarded bridge, passed the
unportcullised arch of the gateway, entered the castle court,
ascertained the tower, ascended the broken stairs, and stood on the
ivied wall. But the nymph of the place was gone. He searched the
ruins within and without, but he found not what he sought: he
haunted the castle day after day, as he had done the lake, but the
damsel appeared no more.



CHAPTER XIV: THE DINGLE



The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her, and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place,
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty, born of murmuring sound,
Shall pass into her face.--WORDSWORTH.

Miss Susannah Touchandgo had read the four great poets of Italy,
and many of the best writers of France. About the time of her
father's downfall, accident threw into her way Les Reveries du
Promeneur Solitaire; and from the impression which these made on
her, she carried with her into retirement all the works of
Rousseau. In the midst of that startling light, which the conduct
of old friends on a sudden reverse of fortune throws on a young and
inexperienced mind, the doctrines of the philosopher of Geneva