hold you can obtain on the passions of turbulent and ambitious men."

"But do you not think," said Sir Algernon, quickly, "that the confiscation of property is a dangerous power to place in the hands of any Government?"

"It may be so," replied Mr Percy, "under an arbitrary power, but scarcely under our constitutional Government."

A slight movement in the recess called their attention to the spot, and perceiving that Antonia was sitting there, and was evidently interested in their conversation, Mr Percy laughed, and asked her how long she had been a politician.

"Ah!" said Sir Algernon, "Antonia and I often discuss these matters together. Come now, my little girl, give us your opinion on our argument."

"Well then, dear uncle, I think you are right," said Antonia, blushing. "Surely no Government can prosper which injures the fatherless and the widow, for a Government ought to represent justice and clemency, and it seems to me that such a policy would be entirely opposed to both."

"Bravo, bravo!" exclaimed her uncle; "you are a good girl, and a clever one too."

Mr Percy was evidently not so well pleased, but whatever he thought, he did not attempt to resume the argument, but making a low bow to Antonia, he said, in a sarcastically polite tone, "Honneur aux dames!" and then, taking up his hat, proposed a walk before the day closed in.

Never mind, Antonia," said her uncle, jokingly; "you have had quite as much triumph as is good for you."

And Antonia, gratified by her uncle's approbation, did not concern herself about Mr Percy's annoyance-defeat, she was pleased to call it.

Ah, Antonia! you ought to have remembered that old couplet, well known in your time, and very appropriate to the occasion—

""Tis not victory to win the field,

Unless we make our enemies to yield

More to our justice than our force: and so,
As well instruct as overcome the foe."

CHAPTER VI.

DURING this spring and summer, Antonia and her cousin Frederick discovered, in one of their scrambling walks, a romantic spot which, although belonging to Sleyton Court, had never been enclosed in the domain; the high road separated it from the park, and as the path leading to it was very rugged, and now almost overgrown with briars and brush-wood, it was completely unfrequented by the neighbouring villagers, and, indeed, apparently unknown to the owners of the soil. This favoured spot was in a deeply wooded glen, through which a little rivulet ran gliding and murmuring, till, meeting with a cleft in the rock, it poured suddenly into a natural basin, formed amongst the rocks, and surrounded on all sides by trees of stunted, irregular growth, but of most picturesque forms, their rude branches bending over the water as if to protect the stream. On a rough board placed against