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‘Mary, your maternal parent is dead, but I will be a mother to you so long as I live, and my husband shall be to you an indulgent father. And now, dear Mary,’ continued Lady Armstrong, ‘for various reasons which cannot now be explained, I must strictly prohibit you from alluding to your real mother in my presence, or that of my husband.’

Many a long and bitter hour as she passed from childhood to youth, and from thence to woman’s estate, did the future heiress of the House of Hamilton ponder sadly over the mysterious and cruel prohibition of her noble aunt, and as she thus pondered, a strong but indefinite presentiment of future sorrow and grief and misery in connection with the fate of her real parents became so completely fastened upon her mind as to cause her whole deportment to become tinged with a sort of sad and mournful melancholy, which all the seductive arts of a London life could not eradicate.

Although numberless suitors of almost every variety of rank and character had knelt in real and assumed adoration before the virtuous shrine of the beautiful West Indian heiress, she had turned from them all with almost loathing indifference, and the summons which she received (about three months previous to the commencement of our story) calling upon her to join her father, in company with her uncle, found her at the age of twenty-three, unmarried and unengaged. In less than a month however, after her embarcation on board of the Gladiator, a gradual change had taken place in her whole demeanor, caused by the deep interest she found herself constrained to take in the person of Henry Huntington, the son of Sir Arthur Huntington, who had followed the fortunes of the Earl of Derwentwater during the rebellion, and who had chosen also to share his banishment. The baronet was a fine specimen of the old English cavaliers, who had freely spent the greater portion of a handsome fortune in the service of the Stuart family, and now, when nearly at the close of a long and eventful life, he with his twin sons (whose poor mother had died in giving them birth,) had left their own dear and native soil, to live, and perhaps to die in a foreign land.

These twin sons and brothers, Henry and Arthur Huntington, had arrived (at the time of which we are speaking,) to the age of twenty-two, and in personal appearance they might have been considered as correct models of manly beauty. Their forms were tall, erect, and muscular, and thus far, each was the exact counterpart of the other, but here the resemblance between the brothers ended. In temper and disposition, Henry was mild, generous and forgiving, whilst Arthur was sanguine, violent and irascible. Although they had both been educated alike, they differed very widely in strength of mind and capacity of intellect, for the mind of Henry was strong, and undeviatingly based on the principles of right, while that of his brother was weak and vacillating. The affections of the former when once fixed, were immoveable as the solid rock, whilst the passions of the latter, although more violent, were not capable of remaining fixed for any length of time on any particular object. These two brothers had both felt a partiality for Mary Hamilton, and so far as Henry was concerned, the partiality was fully reciprocated, but she looked coldly upon Arthur, which caused him to turn from her in disgust, and transport his vacillating affections to sweet Ellen Armstrong, whom, as being our principal heroine, we must now proceed briefly to notice and describe.

At the time of her introduction to the notice of our readers, she was to all outward appearance a bright and joyous being, who seemed to think of nothing but the happiness of herself and those around her. Although but fourteen summers had then passed over her head, and her fair form was slight and fragile as the first pale flower of Spring, her high and noble thoughts, as they escaped from her vermillion lips in soft and musical words, gave sufficient evidence that her mind and intellect was far beyond her years. She was, in very fact and deed, a singular and uncommon being, such an one as is rarely to be met with in the daily walks of life. Her form, though slight, was faultless in its proportions, her countenance was intelligent and highly expressive, whilst in her fair complexion, the pure red and white, seemed to have been most judiciously combined. To all these embellishments, permit us to add, a head of luxuriant hair, of a golden auburn color, with a pair of large and sparkling blue eyes, shaded by long, dark, silken eye lashes, and the personal portrait of our heroine is complete. Her character, also, in many of its traits was as good as her person was beautiful. The bland sweetness of her disposition and the apparent mildness of her temper, had even in the years of her childhood, endeared her to all who happened to be within reach of her acquaintance, but still she had faults, for there are none perfect, no, not one. Ellen Armstrong was fanciful, wayward, and highly romantic, a being of strong and ardent passions which would sometimes, in spite of the watchful vigilance which she always endeavored to keep over them, get the better of her right judgment, and high sense of rectitude.