She rose after some minutes to a sitting posture, and [ The news so affected my poor father, that he was taken giving me a sorrowful look, she sighed deeply without sick before we lost sight of land. He suffered great speaking. "Alas, my dear stranger, (said I,) we. are agony during five weeks, and then, just as the Ameriboth, I fear, sadly disappointed by the result of this in- can coast came into view, he breathed his last. Thus terview. I have long sought you in the belief that you was I left a destitute orphan among strangers, and my were a dear lost friend. You resemble her, and this first office on landing in a strange city, was to bury my resemblance deceived me." "Oh! sir, (said she,) you father. His long illness, and my close attendance on were announced to me as a dear lost friend of mine; it him, reduced our resources, especially as he had given was a mistake on both sides; the shock overcame me; my brother a large portion of his capital, to set him up I saw that you were a stranger and not my friend. My in trade. On my landing in Charleston, I had but small hope is gone. Alas, alas, he is dead! I shall never see funds remaining. But I experienced great kindness him again!" Here she burst into a flood of tears. Af- from several strangers, especially from Dr. La Motte, ter she had wept and sobbed a few minutes, I spoke who was a fellow passenger on the voyage. some friendly words to her, and gradually led her into a conversation. The keenness of my disappointment would have been more sorely felt, if the anguish of Miss Bersati had not interested my feelings and excited my curiosity. I was exceedingly desirous to learn the story of one, who in so many points resembled my lost Judith, now lost again to my newly awakened hopes.

"Lady, (said I after a while,) your resemblance to one whom I dearly loved, whom I thought dead, but whom I hoped again to find alive in you, makes me desirous to know something of your history. Will you favor me with an outline of it?"

"I must now tell you of another sore affliction on my landing. I did not find Mr. Hazleton, as I expected. He had written to me affectionately from time to time, during the first year after our separation. He then informed me that his father had met with misfortunes in business, which made it expedient for him to remove to New Orleans, where he might hope to retrieve his losses. He still urged us to come as soon as possible to America; assured me of his unchanged affection; and declared that nothing prevented him from coming to London for me, but the difficulty of his father's affairs, which required his aid. A few days before we embarked, we “I will, (said she,) if my feelings permit." "I have received a letter from him dated at New Orleans; in heard (said I,) that you are from London." "I am, which he promised to meet me in Charleston, as soon (said she ;) but I was born in Italy. My father, An- as he should hear of my arrival there. As soon as I selmo Bersati, was a professor of music. After the was able, after landing, I wrote to him an account of death of my mother, he accepted the invitation of an my arrival and of my sad condition. A month afterEnglish nobleman, and removed from Florence to Lon-wards no answer had arrived. I wrote again; but no don, when I was ten years old and my brother twelve. answer was returned. Dr. La Motte then wrote to a He had no other children. He taught music in the no-friend of his in New Orleans, to make inquiries. In bleman's family for a while, and was employed at the public concerts. His reputation grew, and he soon acquired a handsome income. He bred me to the same profession, and before I was sixteen, I was qualified to give music lessons. I was soon able to support myself in this way; and before I was eighteen, I got a good salary as musician in the opera. My brother preferred the mercantile business, and was bred to that. He was fond of travelling, and three years ago made a voyage to America. He returned to London with a young gentleman, Andrew Hazleton, of Charleston, whose father was a merchant in good business. I became acquainted with Mr. Hazleton; he soon attached himself to me; the attachment became mutual, and resulted in an engagement of marriage. He and my brother joined their influence to persuade my father to emigrate to Charleston, where they assured him of profitable employment in his profession. My expected settlement in that city, induced him to consent: and the next spring, now two years ago, was fixed on for the voyage. Mr. Hazleton returned home to wait our arrival for the consummation of the marriage.

"The next spring, when we expected to embark, my father was taken ill with a lingering disease, which confined him six months to the house. When he was able again to ride out, he had the misfortune to be thrown from the carriage and almost killed. At last, however, though threatened with a return of his old disease, he embarked with me, twelve months ago, for Charleston. But it was a sad embarkation; for on that very day, we heard that my brother had fallen in a duel at Havana, to which he had gone upon a trading voyage.

four weeks he received an answer, saying that old Mr. Hazleton was dead, and that his son Andrew had embarked, three months before, on a commercial adventure for Brazil, and might be expected soon to return. This explained the cause of my receiving no answers to my late letters, and gave me some consolation. In the mean time, I resided in Dr. La Motte's family as governess of his daughters, and received great kindness from the family. I waited in hope of soon seeing or hearing from Mr. Hazleton. But another and another month passed away without intelligence. Dr. L. wrote again to his friend, and received for answer, that Mr. Hazleton had neither returned nor been heard from. I now began to fear that some fatal accident had befallen him. I had no doubt of his fidelity to me, and have never suspected him of repenting his engagement, or I should not have sought intelligence of him as I have done. In the month of August, I accompanied Dr. La Motte's family on a tour to the north, and returned with them two months afterwards."

Here I interrupted the fair narrator with the remark, that it was on their return from that tour, that I got a glimpse of her face in Philadelphia, and afterwards heard of her visit to my vale of Seclusa. She gave me a look of surprise and interest, when I mentioned Seclusaval. "Are you the owner of that beautiful valley?" "Yes, Miss Bersati; and it was the feeling which you showed on hearing of my disappointment in love, that led me to seek this interview, in the hope that you might indeed prove to be my lost Judith Bensaddi." "Judith Bensaddi! Judith Bensaddi !" said she, in a sort of amazement: "Is she the lady whom you loved ?"

"Yes,—whom I loved and lost: did you know her ?" | lovely Seclusaval, I resolved to bring forth out of my stores the elegancies and luxuries that would make their visit agreeable for the style of my hospitality, as well as for the charms of the scenery.

"Yes, my father was her music-teacher; he often praised her as the finest and most amiable scholar that he ever had. I saw her a few times; but I never had any intimacy with her." "Can you tell me, Miss Bersati, any thing of her history shortly before and after her father's bankruptcy?" "Very little, sir; I remember to have heard that she paid her father's debts out of her own fortune ;-and I think that I afterwards heard of her going to France with her father, and that he died there." "Did you ever hear of her marriage, and of her husband's name?" "I remember to have heard some years ago, that she was expected to be married to a clergyman who had baptized her: but although my father was so often at Mr. Bensaddi's house, while giving her lessons, he ceased to have any intercourse with the family afterwards, and we did not often hear of them: I do not think that I ever heard of her marriage." "Did you ever hear of her death?" "I heard something of another death in the family; but I cannot say for certain that she was the one."

Thus unsatisfactorily did my inquiries terminate. Meanwhile Miss Bersati gradually assumed a more cheerful air, in the excitement of conversation. I staid until the next day, and became sufficiently acquainted with Miss B. to admire her beauty, her talents and her accomplishments. I thought that she showed no reluctance to cultivate an intimacy with me. She often alluded to the beauties of Seclusaval, and to her despair of again seeing her lover. I thought her an interesting lady, resembling my Judith a good deal;-but on the whole fair inferior, especially in the undesigning simplicity of heart, and virgin purity of sentiment, which gave to my lost Judith her transcendant loveliness: not that Miss Bersati was notably deficient in these estimable traits of character; but the Italian ardor of her feelings, was not tempered with such a degree of unsophisticated sweetness and modesty, as distinguished my Judith. Yet I sincerely commiserated her misfortunes, so much like those of my beloved.

Thus did I think to console my desolate heart. By the first of April, I again saw the unfolding verdure of my valley, promising a glorious summer display of all that is beautiful in external nature. The house was finished in a simple but remarkably neat and cleanly style of architecture. It was spacious enough to accommodate a large family. The water pipes were laid, and a clear fountain spouted in the yard, and ran sparkling to trace its mazy rounds about the slopes and terraces of the garden. The garden, now finished and furnished, began to bud and bloom with all the riches of a temperate climate. The meadow, sprinkled here and there with trees, single and in clumps, was clothed with a luxuriant sward of the deepest green. The pure waters of the lake were inhabited by a thousand sportive fishes, among which the trouts seemed to find peculiar joy in the cool pellucid element. The neighboring hills and dales differed from the meadow, only in being more shaded with the native forest trees, which had been selected to remain for their stately magnificence, their beautiful forms, or their rich verdure: but among these chosen remnants of the forest, a green turf grazed by flocks and herds began to cover and adorn the ground. Lawns here and there permitted the eye to penetrate into the bosom of the park, and afforded glimpses of beautiful groves and retreats, that enticed the imagination as much by what was hidden as by what was revealed.

The reader, if interested in her story, will be pleaseded to hear that within a month after my visit, her lover returned and fulfilled his engagement.

CHAPTER V.

THE MUSIC TEACHER.

A carriage road had been made to wind among the hills and dales towards the upper end of the valley. Passing by the Dusky Cascade before described, it pursued the dark glen that led up to the Blue Ridge; but presently took the point of a low ridge, that led it gradually up to the top of Craggy head. From this road another led down into the valley on the north-eastern side of Craggyhead, and down that valley until it jointhe road leading out of Seclusaval by the ravine. Now, with all these varied sources of pleasure and amusement, such choice gifts of nature, such sweet embellishments of art, such stores of all that my heart could covet of the productions of human industry; such a collection of books and of philosophical apparatus, and such specimens of the fine arts, as I had collected in Europe and America,-which if not very costly, were all that I desired-did I not feel happy? How I returned home with a heavy heart; taking Charles- many are there in this country, male and female, young ton in my route, that I might lay in a supply of all and old, who fancy that the possessor of such abundant things needful to complete my establishment in Seclu- sources of enjoyment, must needs enjoy them and be saval, where I was now more than ever disposed to lead satisfied. Or, if these alone could not satisfy; if the a solitary life," the world forgetting, by the world for-pleasures of society were wanting in my valley; still got." With this view I purchased every thing now, as I could easily allure what company I would into so in the way of furniture and stores, that my little house- charming a retreat-many perhaps among my readers hold and my laborers would be likely to need for several will scarce believe me when I say, that after the exciteyears. I was liberal, if not profuse, in my purchases; ment of unpacking, storing away and arranging my late I designed to be not only just but generous to my agents, acquisitions was over, and I had nothing to do but entenants and dependants: and accumulated such various joy the beauties of Seclusaval and the goods that I had stores, that I could always have suitable presents to laid up for many years;-then did I begin to feel a debestow. For my worthy steward's family I made spe- gree of hopeless despondency, such as I had never felt cial provision. As to my private and ordinary style of since I came into the gold country. While I was laborliving, I resolved that it should be simple and plain; ing in my profession, and was full of duties and engagebut when genteel friends or strangers should visit my ments, I was happy. The constant stimulus that kept

suits. Mr. Lappet sets out to-morrow for that city, and he shall be my agent. So write immediately to Mr. D., and tell him that his terms are accepted: but I forbid any mention of my name in the letter. The music teacher might feel some scruple, if she knew that a young bachelor had bidden so high for her. She might suspect that I have some design upon her."

my faculties in a state of activity, left me no time to | by way of assurance that the promise shall be fulfilled, brood over real or imaginary evils. Now, when my work I will send to Philadelphia to-morrow for the first three was done, my fortune made, and a home, lovelier than I had ever dreamed of in my most poetic moods, was mine, to have and to enjoy, according to my pleasure; I first began to feel a sense of weariness and satiety, then of loneliness; then, as the remembrance of one favorite object unattained, came up more frequently and took hold more deeply upon my mind, I became so sad and restless, that I saw no other means of alleviation, than to fly from my quiet paradise and mingle again with the turmoils of busy life. In fact, there was an aching void in my heart; I was alone, and it is not good for man to be alone.

The letter was written; and in three weeks an answer was received, announcing that Mr. D. and his teachers would set out in a few days for the academy.

This affair lightened the burden upon my heart for some days. I returned to Seclusaval, but soon began to droop again. I busied myself awhile in superintending some improvements, either not yet finished or newly undertaken. I visited all the new farms on my estate, especially the French colony in Soyevin, the name which I gave the valley devoted to vineyards and mulberry orchards. I found them doing well. Thus I

Happily, there was one favorite enterprise of mine yet unaccomplished. The female academy was not yet supplied with teachers. A difficulty arose; and the trustees sent me a request to come down and aid them with my advice. The difficulty was this: The trustees had after much correspondence fixed their hearts on procuring the services of Mr. Danforth, who was teach-made out to spend the month of April. But when May ing a female academy in New York, but thinking the climate too cold for his constitution, was desirous of obtaining a situation in the south. But as his qualifications were high, so, and justly so, were his terms. He required the guarantee of a specific sum for himself during one year, and for his music teacher during three years. He would not engage in a new institution and a strange country, without satisfactory evidence that a complete seminary under good management could be sustained, and this evidence was the guarantee. The trustees could obtain from the families of the country around sufficient engagements to guarantee Mr. Danforth's own salary, and that of his wife;—but the demand of one thousand dollars a year for the music teacher, seemed extravagant, and the patrons were not willing to join the trustees in securing it.

came, my melancholy increased. The opening charms of nature in Seclusaval served only to inspire melancholy thoughts. I was still alone; and it is not good for man to be alone. But what could I do? Though the Houris that adorn the fancied paradise of Mahomet had all smiled upon me, not one could have touched my heart, so long as the sweet miniature that I wore in my bosom, daily renewed my love for the peerless Judith Bensaddi-ever to be loved, and ever to be lamented. I could stay at home no longer. I mounted my horse and rode again to the academy. The workmen were busily engaged in preparing it for the expected teachers. It could divert my melancholy but a day or two. I mounted and rode away, scarcely knowing whither I would go. Once I thought that I would visit the place where I first resided in Carolina; but when I reached the fork of the road leading to it, I felt too gloomy to appear among my acquaintances there: so I turned eastwardly and travelled on without object. I was flying from melancholy; but I carried the evil in my bosom, and fled in vain, because I could not fly from myself.

When I met with the trustees, I found them reluctantly brought to the conclusion, that they could not employ Mr. D., and must look out for another and probably an inferior teacher. When I read his letter prescribing the conditions, I noticed that he spoke in the highest terms of the lady who taught music in his school; he valued her services so highly, that he would not en- The third day of my travel from the academy was gage any where without her, nor without securing her Saturday, and brought me at nightfall to an inn by the an ample salary. He said that she was in no degree way-side, where a Mr. McTab, a Scotchman, furnished related to him or his family, and that she was a friend-homely fare to travellers. The family had just arrived less and unfortunate lady, whom he would not forsake, from a religious meeting, which was being held at a viland whose talents and accomplishments would adorn lage seven miles beyond. The meeting was numerously any station. I was struck with the noble sentiments attended on account of the presbytery, which was holdexpressed by Mr. Danforth, and conceived such an es-ing its sessions at the place. The Lord's Supper was teem for his character, that I promptly resolved to make to be administered the next day, and a great congregamyself responsible for the music teacher's salary. tion was expected to attend. I was glad to hear of this meeting, and resolved at once to attend it. I felt myself in woful need of religious consolation; and hoped that by means of the holy communion, I might at last obtain rest for my weary soul.

"Gentlemen, (said I,) Mr. Danforth speaks like a man conscious of his deserts; and what is more, like a generous friend to the unfortunate. The high terms which he demands so peremptorily for the accomplished and unfortunate lady whom he has taken under his protection, are to me the strongest reasons why we should accept them. I take upon myself the guarantee of a thousand dollars annually, for three years, to the unfortunate lady :—I will go a step further, and promise the same lady three elegant suits of apparel, yearly, if she will come three times each year and play upon the instrument that stands silent in my lonely parlor and

I accompanied Mr. McTab and his family the next morning. I found the church in a grove on the outskirts of the village. Hundreds of horses were tied to the trees and fences. Although Divine service had be gun, great numbers of loose persons were strolling about or gathered in groups wherever they could find logs or benches to sit on. Every door had a crowd about it, and every seat and every aisle in the church were

thronged with auditors. Mr. McTab's pew being near | noon service, I walked out to meditate in the woods. I the front door, we made out to work our way to it; and felt a delightful glow of spiritual comfort. A fountain, by making some youngsters stand among our feet we lately closed, had been opened again by the devotional were enabled to seat ourselves. I could not see the exercises of the day. I no longer considered myself a preacher, except occasionally through openings in a solitary, unconnected being. If I lacked one tie, of all dense mass of heads and shoulders. The sermon was earthly ties the closest and dearest-if, so far, I was an edifying one, and prepared me for joining devoutly severed from that without which human nature and in the communion. human happiness are incomplete-I now felt the drawWhen the communion service began, there was con- ing of other bonds which bound me to many hearts, siderable difficulty in passing through the crowded even of strangers, around the communion table. I was aisles to the table. Therefore I waited until the service still a member of the human family :-I was also a was nearly over, and then accompanied Mr. McTab's member of the spiritual family, gathered by him who family to the table. Finding it nearly full, they took came down from heaven, into a peculiar brotherhoodthe space on the one side, while I passed round to the a brotherhood of renewed hearts, which by prayer draw other, and sat facing them. Two or three ladies still sweet effluences of love from the common fountain of lacked seats. The elder in attendance touched my Deity, ever flowing from its exhaustless source to purishoulder, that I might make room for them. By press-fy and to console. Alas! that so many should never ing closely together, we left a space that was scantily seek these living waters. Alas! that so many should sufficient for the ladies. The one next to me was in infuse the bitterness of their own hearts into these deep mourning, and closely veiled. She was much af-healing streams, and call the polluted mixture religion! fected after she sat down, and strove in vain to suppress The afternoon service was begun, before I returned

her sobs and tears. She had been pressed so closely to to the church. The sermon was an excellent one; my side, that I could feel the tremor of her nerves and chastely and beautifully eloquent, and strictly approthe palpitation of her heart. Her tokens of distress ex-priate to the occasion, but delivered with less vehecited my sympathy. Her bereavement was doubtless severe, and probably recent; whether she mourned for parent, or brother; or, what seemed more likely, for the companion of her bosom. As I did, so did she, and sorely too, need the consolations of religion. I raised my heart in supplication for the weeping mourner, as well as for myself.

mence of manner than is usual in the south. The people generally seemed to listen without interest to calm and lucid exposition, logical argument and mild persuasion. The popular mind is yet too uncultivated to relish such refined oratory. I asked Mr. McTab who this preacher was. "A stranger frae the north, (said he,) ganging awa' south." Altogether the services of the day had a surprising effect on my mind. I left the church, renewed, brightened, and sanctified, at least for the time. I thanked Divine Providence for directing my wandering steps to this presbyterial meeting. I could now go home refreshed.

As I pressed through the crowd to get my horse, I happened to hear a couple of plainly dressed old country women, in earnest conversation. Their Scottish dialect first struck my attention; but the subject of their colloquy soon awakened all my curiosity. "Aweel now, Mrs. McGraw, I wud na mind that a bawbee.

When the bread was distributed, she seemed to be so absorbed by her devotions as not to observe it. I took a small piece from the plate, broke it and put one of the parts into her hand. She took it from me and ate it, as I did the other part. So, when the wine came round, I tasted first, and then gave her the cup, which she took from my hand. Every moment I felt a greater interest in this stranger, and repeatedly implored the Father of Mercies in her behalf. I knew not why, but I was conscious of a singularly tender sensation from the soft touch of her arm and side, involuntarily pressed against mine. The feeling had nothing in it incongru-Ye'll agree that a Jewess may be a gude christian, ous to the sacredness of the hour and the place: it was when she is convarted." "Why, yes, Mrs. McCraken, a pure sympathy for the griefs of a breast, so gentle and I grant ye, if she be truly and throughly regenerate: so devout as I felt hers to be. I was no little gratified but that is nae easily done wi' ane o' them hardened to perceive the soothing effect of the communion upon Jews, Mrs. McCracken. And then I wud na mind her her heart, whose spasmodic action ceased; tears flow-being a private christian, like, but I unnerstan that she ed no longer; but a holy calm seemed to have been breathed into her soul, as it was into mine, through faith in the expiatory sufferings that were signified by the sacred emblems of bread and wine. We felt the peace which the dying Son of God bequeathed to his disciples; the spiritual peace, without which the soul of man is but a fountain of bitter waters.

When we rose from the table, the ladies at my side preceded me in retiring. The mourning lady then appeared to be of the middle stature, and she wore a bonnet somewhat different from any others that I noticed. These were the only observations that I could make, before we parted in the crowd and I lost sight of her. I felt a natural curiosity to know who she was, but had no means of learning, as I could not describe her to another person with any distinctness.

is a teacher, a sort o' public character, like,—ye know, Mrs. McCracken. Now just think-wud ye like to put your daughter unner a Judaizing teacher? Ye know how the Apostle warns us agin sic Judaizing teachers. Think o' that, Mrs. McCraken."

I had stopped at the word Jewess, which struck me like a thunder-clap, not now to frighten, but to rouse me. I waited for some further development of the subject of conversation. But Mrs. McCracken's husband called her off suddenly. "Good e'en, Mrs. McGraw," said Mrs. McCracken. "Good e'en, Mrs. McCracken," said Mrs. McGraw and ere I could address either Mrs. McCracken or Mrs. McGraw, they had mingled with the crowd and disappeared.

Had I met an acquaintance then, I would have inquired, if they had a converted Jewess for a teacher in

During the short intermission that preceded the after-their neighborhood. But a few moments reflection

VOL. V.-83

made me conclude, that it was a matter of no conse- | five minutes I was on my horse, and ere I was aware I quence to me. Jewesses were found half the world found that I had urged him to a gallop. When I overover; and a converted Jewess was no such rarity, that took them, a short turn in the road brought the side of the mention of one should make me fancy that my lost the barouche into view. Mr. Danforth sat on the fore. Judith had risen from the grave. seat as driver; but the lady in black was so closely veiled, and so covered from my sight by the other lady, that I could make no discovery. I could easily have passed and turned to look at the faces of the party, but I would not risk a recognition of such importance in such circumstances.

I returned to Mr. McTab's on my way home. The next morning, while conversing with the hostess on the occurrences of the meeting, I was about to ask her a question suggested by the allusions of the old women at the church, when she anticipated me by asking, if I knew that the lady in mourning, who sat by my side Supposing that they must have taken an early breakat the communion table, was a converted Jewess. I fast and would of course stop for dinner, I laid a scheme started, turned pale,—and almost breathless, answered, to gain my end at the house where they would stop. "No." "Aweel now, she was;-but ye need na be The only convenient house for the purpose, I rememfrightened. I trust that she is truly regenerate, and I din-bered to be in a rocky vale, where a mill, a store and a na think that we should feel sic antipathy to ony chris- smith shop, made a sort of village. When Mr. Dantian, though she be o' Jewish bluid." "I feel no anti-forth stopped the barouche at a brook to let the horses pathy, Mrs. McTab. But what you tell me is very drink, I rode past, holding my umbrella so as to conceal surprising. Does she reside in this country?" "Na, my face from the ladies. I then dashed on, and arrived she is a stranger amang us. She came till the presby-at the tavern nearly an hour earlier than the barouche. tery on Saturday with the preacher that ye heard in Telling the landlady that I did not "feel well," (a the afternoon. They are ganging south, I hear, till true saying,) I called for a private room that I might lie teach a seminary." "Do you know the preacher's down. She showed me first a back room, which I rename?" "Aye, I heard it; I think they ca' him Don-jected; then she offered me a room up stairs, which I fort, or the like o' that." "Danforth, perhaps." "Aye, declined also. She looked with curiosity into my face, aye, Donfurth, preceesely." "Is the Jewish lady his wife?" I asked in great trepidation. "Na, na; his wife sat next till the Jewess, in white claes. They say that the Jewish convert is his music teacher--though I canna say what sort o' music she teaches-some o' their ungadly whuslin lilts, I fear, for they dinna teach psalmody in their academies, I unnerstan―the mair is the pity." "His music teacher! Did you hear her name, Mrs. McTab ?" "Her name ? O aye, I heard ane tell it till anither but it is sic a strange name-I canna remember--but it sounded like a Scriptur name too-up and the curtain down, so as to leave a small openBeersheba-or Belshazzar-Ach! na—it was na jist a ing adapted to my scheme of peeping-for I desired to Scriptur name --Benhadad--it was amaist like Ben- see before I was seen. Meditating on the possibility hadad-but I canna forgather it.” “Was it Bensaddi ?" that this might be indeed my Judith, I considered what I asked with almost breathless anxiety. "Bainsawdi! I should do in case that it was herself. She was proba A weel now I think that was it :-But I canna tell: Ibly a widow, as her deep mourning and sorrow indicathink now it was mair like Baalsamen." "Try to remember, Mrs. McTab-do remember, I beg you." "Ye seem to hae a curiosity about it, Mr. Garame: Ah, here is Jenny:—Jenny, dear, did ye hear the Jewish laddy's name at the kirk yestr'een?" "Nae, mither; I only heard her called the Jewish music teacher.”

to see if my pericranium was sound. I asked if she had not a bed-room at the end of the front piazza. "Yes, (said she,) but the sun makes it too warm, at this time of day." "Give me that, madam, it suits me exactly." She gave me another scrutinizing glance, and then led the way. It was within thirty feet of the gate, and had a small window, opening towards the road. Requesting to have some toast and tea prepared, I lay down on the bed. But I seemed to lie on thorns. I got up and prepared the window, by having the sash

ted a bereavement more recent than the death of her father thirteen months before. I conceived the outlines of a plan of action; and was absorbed in the subject, when I heard the sound of wheels. My heart fluttered;' in great trepidation I took my seat by the window, just as the vehicle stopped.

Mr. Danforth dismounted, and hearing that the party could have dinner, he handed out first the lady in white, who walked straightway into the house. Then he handed out the lady in black, who, as she entered the gate, partially drew aside her veil. A soft dark eye, and part of a lovely face, made me almost faint with fearful joy. Mr. Danforth spoke to her: "How do you feel now, Miss Judith ?” "Better every way than I have felt these many days," was the answer; and as she spoke, she turned her face so that every feature was

This was all that I could learn of the family. Though unsatisfactory, it was sufficient to kindle again some trembling hope at least it stirred up a thorny impatience to learn who this music teacher was. She was a Jewess; she was a mourner; I had caused her to come to our academy; and at the communion table, I had felt that there was a tender and mysterious sympathy between our souls. These alone were points of deep interest-and then the name! Oh how I longed to know the exact form of it! I was cautious, since Miss Bersati's case had disappointed me, not to trust in re-distinctly seen. semblances.

Breakfast had been just finished, and the hostler was saddling my steed, when a two-horse barouche passed by towards the west. I stepped to the door and saw that the hind-seat was occupied by two ladies, one in white, the other in black, with the identical bonnet of the lady in whom I now felt so intense an interest. In

I heard—I saw—it was-it was beyond a doubt, my Judith Bensaddi! Her softly beaming eyes, her sweet countenance, somewhat pale and overcast with years of sorrow, but yet all sweet and lovely; the dulcet voicethe name-all agreed. I must have believed, though I had seen her laid in the grave. She lived-she lookedshe spoke-she was Miss Judith, not Mrs. Brannigan.