"To say how fête succeeded fête, amusement crowded | upon amusement, were the detail of the next fleeting weeks. I lived more in the future than in the present; more in anticipation than in actual enjoyment. "One morning as we loitered over the breakfast table, my uncle threw a purse of gold towards Antonio, say ing, with considerable asperity of tone "I heard no more; hurrying to my apartment, I appeared no more that day. I could not doubt I was deserted by the only being who had breathed life into the fervency of love my heart held; and in the mingled emotions of anguish, pride, indignation, that heart seemed scorched. I shed no tears, but I was not the less miserable for that. In the silence and darkness of night, while I brooded over my own wretchedness, heavy footsteps in the hall and an unusual and confused murmur of voices aroused me. I listened--I heard the name of Antonio. Breathless, I sped to the top of the marble staircase. The body of a wounded man was borne slowly and heavily through the lordly hall-the dark blood dripping on the polished floor. My uncle followed it with a stern sorrow. I could not disguise from myself the fatal truth: it was Antonio Bandini! and as I gazed on his pallid features, (for I had descended "Since I must support you in your folly and extravagance, wonder not that I do it hesitatingly-grudgingly; and be not surprised, when I say my fortune, however ample, must soon be dissipated by these successive and exorbitant demands on it. Your note of last night, while it solicits this sum towards the discharge of debts which press so heavily upon you, says not how they have been incurred. Antonio! I have that confidence in you, to believe they have not been contracted by play!' I arose ere my uncle paused, and as I looked towards Antonio, ere I left the room, 1 saw that he red-to the hall) whose unearthly hue appeared more corpsedened to the brow, and that fierce fire played in his flashing eye. like from the purple stream which rolled sullenly over his face, issuing unceasingly from a wound in his head, "I felt no desire to intrude in the examination of that I hardly repressed the shriek which seemed ready to course which had elicited so sharp a reprimand from burst from me. Almost fainting, I leaned against one my uncle. I heard their voices high in altercation for of the marble pillars, as the sad spectacle passed onwards. some time after I had retired, but at length there was Ere I recovered, I was alone-no! not alone; for that stillness, and supposing the breakfast room vacated, I | soul-piercing, harrowing shriek, which met my ear, told hastened there for a volume into which I had been me there was other agony than mine own. A soft, looking, and which I had left there. As I withdrew gentle sob, again broke the hushed stillness-twining the rich folds of the velvet curtain which separated arms were around my knees-I opened my eyes; for in this apartment from an adjoining one, I started back on the bitterness of my sorrow, I had closed them, that no beholding my uncle and Antonio still within, and in a object might thrust itself between me and the contemlow tone conversing so earnestly, that they did not plation of my grief. The fair, clinging form of Miss observe my intrusion. My uncle's first words ar- Templeton knelt at my feet; her dark hair, in its unrested me: bound luxuriance, sweeping the cold floor, and bright tears swimming in her eyes, rendering them even starry in their radiance. "Poor girl! she has then been the victim of a perfidy as base and unfeeling as it is consummate and artful.' The words that followed were not heard by me, for they were muttered in Antonio's ear, with an indistinctness for which my uncle's violence of emotion (for he appeared alarmingly agitated,) accounted. "Antonio started from his seat, and with a threatening gesture exclaimed-'Madre de Dios! immolate my love, my plighted faith, at the shrine of wealth, of worldly aggrandizement! sacrifice the pure, fresh affection of a young trusting heart, to the cold selfishness of a woman whose idol is pomp, whose worship is herself!-never! never!' and as he flung himself back on the regal cushions of the chair, whence he had started, its massive frame seemed to quake with the tremor of passion which convulsed him. My uncle passed his hand slowly over his eyes, groaned seemingly in bitterness of spirit, and approaching Antonio, said "I involuntarily shrank from her, for I felt it was to her, in part, I owed my wretchedness-she had stolen from me the heart I had learned to love so utterly. "Tell me,' she exclaimed, 'for the love of God, tell me where they have taken him?' "It seems she was passing the house as Antonio was borne to it, and the rays of the lamps falling on his countenance, she had recognised him, alighted from her carriage, and in frantic despair, rushed into the hall through which she had beheld him carried. Her vehement ejaculations continued, notwithstanding my silence, for I spoke not, in answer to her inquiry. At length she arose-'I will go and seek him;' and as her eye fell on the dark spots which marked the progress of the wounded man, she shuddered. was passing on, when I caught her arm, and remonstrated lover?' She "I do not reproach you for ingratitude-I do not speak of my gifts to you-I recall not the hours of your "Miss Templeton, what will the world, what will youth, your manhood, when I fulfilled with yearning Lord, Lady Vernon say, if it is known you are here, at affection every office of the kindest parent-I appeal this hour, unattended, and with the avowed purpose of not to your duty to me-but earnestly, tenderly, implo-seeing a gentleman, who, at the most, is only your ringly, do I ask you to think of the heart which has yet never dreamed of unhappiness, never imagined sorrow- "And what is the world, what Lord, Lady Vernon of the noble spirit which has been nurtured by the very to me, when Antonio is dying? Think you, I respect breath of love-of the young, bright form, springing so the forms of that world which would banish from the gladly in life's path-ere you bring desolation on that pillow of an expiring man-but I lose time,' added heart, contumely on that spirit, the blighting hand of she, checking herself-every moment is golden now.' grief to wither the rare loveliness of that form. One So saying, she would have gone on, but I still detained word more, Antonio, and I am done. By your extra-her. vagance, my fortune is "Miss Templeton, think one moment before you adopt (shall I say it ?) indelicacy of conduct. Antonio | resorted for comfort, but from it I received not that is well attended, and your presence will only tend to agitate and embarrass him. Why persist in it? You, who are only the'— "Wife of his bosom!' interrupted she quickly, as she shook from her the arm those words had palsied. My heart's pulsations seemed stayed-a cold tremor passed over me, and I felt as if the earth was sinking, with me on her bosom, into that abyss where hope never comes. The delirium of love fled before the reality of such treachery; indignation nerved my fainting form, and with a pride I sought not to conceal, I followed to his apartment the one who had avowed herself his wife. That apartment, which one moment before I would have shunned, I now longed to enter. I reached the door, just in time to hear him exclaim, as Miss Templeton rushed in, passionately throwing herself into his em brace- peace which I had so bitterly proved the world cannot give.' Before the dying gift of my mother, I poured forth the agony of my spirit; but unclothed in humility, trusting to that very suffering, and not to the Saviour, I found no consolation. During this time, Ida - was my constant companion. 1 veiled from her the tale of my grief, but my religion was known to her, and by many arguments she sought to lead me from the darkness of superstition to the light of that faith on which the Sun of Righteousness, with healing in his wings,' had arisen. My agitated mind imparted its fever to my body; long, painful, and violent illness seized me, and the very day that Antonio Bandini, now recovered from his wounds, sought his home without my uncle's house, I was prostrated by the fever which had revelled so long and so fiercely in my veins. Ida now came daily, like a messenger of mercy-the beauty of "Mia cara vita.' His voice was low and very weak, her religion seemed waked into voice, in her meek, but tenderness spoke in those few words so softly gentle, affectionate manner; and I have often, as with breathed. The stains of blood had been removed from her countenance of heavenly peace she moved noisehis face, and his matted hair hung heavily on his tem-lessly about my sick chamber, asked myself, 'can ples, contrasting fearfully with the hueless, deathlike heresy, which I have been taught to despise, grant these complexion. As my shadow darkened the threshold, sweet fruits, while I, nourished on the very bosom of he looked towards me, and a smile of demoniac triumph the holy mother church, almost a fanatic in my zeal broke over his face-the expression of a fiend crossed for her, am doomed to suffer without alleviation, withhis colorless features. I quailed not beneath it. With out abatement? Where are the consolations of my that haughtiness I could so well assume, I flung back religion?' Then, repenting my murmurings, I sought his look; with a contempt which should have withered forgiveness for them, not grasping the cross of Christ his heart, I coldly returned his smile—and saying, 'I as my only hope, but trusting in the rigor of renewed now leave you to the care of your wife, as I perceive penances, relying on my own 'good works!' I will she has gained your apartment,' I passed with unbend- not detain you by dwelling on the gradual process of ing pride from the presence of the heartless traitor, my passage from death unto life; how I struggled whom I then saw for the last time. against the effects of Ida's conversations; how I strove to convince her of the fallacy of her own faith, and the heavenly origin of my own; how I oft dreamed of re "When I had departed, my uncle followed my steps, and on his bosom I wept tears, wrung from unspeakable anguish. His affection was now my only remain-claiming the heretic, wooing her back to the true fold, ing solace, and infolded to his heart, I inwardly vowed whence she had strayed, and as often found myself to cherish that affection with unswerving tenderness. obliged to relinquish the sweet hope; how at last the It was from him I then learned Antonio's desperate fabric I had so proudly reared against the advancement passion for play, and that the wounds of which he was of heresy, the strong hold to which I had fled for refuge then suffering, had been indicted by one of his reckless from its encroachments, gradually tottered and sank, associates, who, exasperated by his own losses, and | while I, its baffled, but repentant inhabitant, bowed besuspicious of Antonio's success, had charged him with fore the superiority of a foe, against whom I had comunfairness. Word succeeded to word-menace to me- | batted so long and so unavailingly. My Bible was, after nace--the cold blade of the dagger was unsheathed-some time, read with unprejudiced eyes; prayer bethey fought, and soon exhausted by loss of blood, Antonio fell. While his companion sought safety elsewhere, he was borne to his home, covered with wounds, and burning with vengeance. "From my uncle I also gleaned (though he had just learned it,) the corroborated intelligence of Antonio's elandestine marriage, many weeks before, to the fair English girl, whose beauty and song had enchained him from the first moment he had beheld her, though the purity of that beauty, the heavenliness of that song, had failed to impart their elevating influences to his sordid mind. Although my affection, deep and beautiful, and trusting as it had been in its worship, was now changed into contempt and detestation, I do not say I suffered not. Ah, no! who that saw the faded cheek, the lustreless eye, the shrinking form, could say that grief had not touched them, and brushed off the gloss and brightness and buoyancy of youth! To my religion I came a source of sacred pleasure; I leaned on my Saviour for redemption, no longer on my own weak efforts. Ida saw this change, and the cords of friendship were tightened. Though I was nominally still a Catholic, she knew I possessed many sentiments in common with herself, and doubted not I was a pilgrim in the same ، strait and narrow way. "The few weeks immediately succeeding my recovery, were fraught with fresh sorrow to me, but I did not again sink beneath its accumulating burden, for an Almighty hand upheld me. "My uncle, who often visited me during my illness, seemed always sorrowful. To the ingratitude of Antonio I attributed this depression, but as he was increasingly sad, as his countenance bore the traces of deep anxiety, I began to suspect other causes operated to produce his uneasiness. My conjectures were, however, ended, when one evening my uncle summoned me to a private interview, and at some length, with a quivering lip and blanched cheek, he told me he was not master of my uncle's signature; claimed and received my whole "With the brand of forgery, Bandini fled from his country, his home, his wife; and the daring valor of a pirate's life shrouded the iniquity of those acts which induced him to take refuge in a perpetual home on the deep seas. Ida and her father were the first to offer the balm of sympathy to one who had so bitterly expe rienced 'the vicissitudes of life.' Yielding to their solicitations, offered in the fervor of friendship, I ac cepted the guardianship of Mr. V—, and when he a piaster! From what I had heard of his conversation remaining property; insuring the success of his villainwith Antonio, to which I have already alluded, I was ous scheme, by concealing his actual marriage, and inclined to believe the extravagant courses of his nephew causing the report of his betrothal to me to be revived had involved him in some embarrassments, yet I never where it was readily hearkened to. The cold, calcuimagined he was inextricably entangled. I scarcely heed-lating policy of the villain, was apparent throughout! ed my uncle, as he proceeded to explain minutely how I wondered not it had sped death's shaft to the heart of he had been so suddenly hurled from the very pinnacle | my dear, kind uncle ! of luxury; my mind was engrossed with another subject: my part was taken; and as he went on to deplore, for my sake, the necessity of resigning his magnificent establishment, I threw myself at his feet, exclaiming, 'Never, my dear uncle! never shall it be said I luxuriated in the splendor of wealth, while one who had thrown around me the fostering care of a parent, pined in the bitterness of want: that I revelled in the enjoyment of those comforts which had been wrested from him. I have wealth, uncle-I want only sufficiency-decided on returning to America, it is not to be wondertake the rest, I implore, I supplicate you-and think not, in your last years, to deprive yourself of those possessions to which you were born the inheritor.' My uncle kissed my brow, as he gently raised me from my kneeling posture, spoke warmly of his gratitude, but firmly and resolutely rejected my offer. I pleaded, but in vain. I dwelt on his kindness-his generous kindness: I offered him my fortune as his right. He was deaf to all my prayers. While I acknowledged the nobleness of his motive, I deplored his pertinacious firmness; but drying my tears, I quitted his presence, and before another eve had thrown its glory over our regal home, my uncle was again its rightful master. The clamor of the claimants for his noble possessions, was appeased by my gold, and though my vast heritage had dwindled to comparative competency, by the discharge of what I deemed my sacred duty, I lamented not its loss: I was happy in the consciousness of acting a christian's part. ed at, that, without ties in my native land, I clung to that protection which their affection had thrown as a shield around me, and prepared to seek a home in another and strange clime. "Although my inestimable and noble young friend, Mr. Wallingford, would fain have persuaded me to link my destinies with his own, I shrank from perilling my happiness again on the deep of affection, where it had been so fearfully wrecked; and my heart, withered and blighted, my fortunes clouded, my spirit crushed, were unworthy of one so gifted, in whose book of life every page glowed so bright and fresh. As he accompanied us to the vessel which was to bear us over the billowy deep, and as he pressed my hand in parting, the prayer of a broken heart almost burst into utterance for his undying happiness. After our last adieu was exchanged, I felt that the sadness of departure was gone, although fair Italia, with her burnished skies, the land of my fathers, was fading before the lingering gaze of the exile." * "I now began to hope no farther blight might enter our circle, but I was mistaken. A few days after the occurrence I have just related, I was aroused at an Nina soon became too weak to join our friends below early hour, and requested to go to my uncle's apart- stairs. Ida shared with me the sad duty of administerment. Tremblingly I obeyed. As I entered the cham-ing to the meek sufferer, and not unfrequently would ber, my uncle's valet, who had opened the door to me, passed quickly into the adjoining room. Hastily I advanced to the centre of the apartment, and not seeing any one within, I walked to the bed-side, pulled aside the curtains of the bed, gave one wild scream, and fell senseless by the side of my dead uncle! When I recovered, I was still alone with the departed; my eye fell on an open letter, which apparently had been recently read, and which rested on the coverlid. I started to my feet, and with a dread foreboding I could not suppress, I glanced over its contents. It was from an old and tried friend of our family at Venice, and as the horrible truth it told was slowly revealed to me, I felt my fears had not whispered falsely: Antonio Bandini had given death all its sting, to the one who had loved him so blindly. I ceased to read; I stood immoveable. The last drop was added to the cup of agony, which had so long overflowed--that cup which sparkled so gloriously in life's early spring-time. By the corpse of him who had been all to me-the last of my house-the last of my kindred-I knew I was not only friendless and desolate, but I learned in that fatal letter I was a beggar also. Antonio Bandini had counterfeited my own and ask permission to read to her, which was always readily accorded. The book constantly selected was the Bible, and with clasped hands, and closed eyes, every word seemed to be eagerly drunk in by the dying girl. The Catholic only existed in name, and this was not destined long to continue. Since the avowal of her sentiments to me, I was in daily expectation of a formal renunciation of her faith; but it was not until a short time before her death that this occurred. There, in that chamber, over whose threshold the destroying angel was hovering, Nina Genovesi abjured the Romish religion, and par took of the communion; after which a sweet and holy calm seemed to pervade her soul; every thought was detached from earth, and in perfect, uninterrupted peace, she awaited the approach of "the last enemy," fearing not her conflict, but believing the "dark valley and shadow of death" was but a passage to the realms of unfading glory and undying bliss. Every word which fell from her lips was tinctured with these feelings, and as we watched her, languishing and withering, like a fair flower untimely crushed and blighted, such a glorious halo seemed playing around the beautiful ruin, that the tear was quenched, the prayer to detain her longer amid the cares and tumults of the world was stilled, and from the ashes of the hope we so reluctantly yielded, there was kindled the flame of a christian's unmurmuring submission. "Dearest Ida," would Nina oftentimes exclaim, "had it not been for you, through Heaven's blessing, death would not now wear such a garb to me; I should shrink from encountering the billows of that tide which rolls between me and my promised inheritance; but now all fears, all doubts are hushed, and all is peace, unspeakable peace. What has wrought it? The Bible, whose truths you first unfolded to me-the precious Bible, which has revealed the glories and comforts and bliss of a Saviour's love!" Each day saw Nina more spirit-like, and soon she was unable to leave her bed. The very spirit of sadness seemed breathed over the household; and the noiseless tread, the whispered word, the darkened room, the universal hush of every sound, interrupted only by the low and often labored breathings of the sufferer, told that the work of death was going on. Who could count on years, or even days, when all that was most fair and bright was fading under our gaze—when the wing of the spoiler was darkening the sun-light of youth and beauty? Yet life seemed to nestle lovingly to that form, and cling graspingly to that fabric, wherein it had revelled in such rare loveliness, yet so briefly. But death's progress was not to be stayed. folded on the breast, and between the taper fingers Though long years have passed since the event I have * * * Time passed on, and his cold wing had chilled more Summer was dancing in all its richness on the than one emotion of my bosom; but my intercourse with flowery earth. In an hour of brightness and melody, Ida slumbered not, and my affection for her lost none of the one whom we had cherished so fondly was called its freshness. For three years her married life was unhence. Supported on Ida's bosom, Nina gazed on the clouded; and the birth of a lovely little girl, during this glowing face of nature. All was hushed in that cham- period, awakened in both parents an intensity of tenber of death; we scarcely breathed, lest the spirit which derness, of which only a parent can form an adequate animated that shadowy form should be frightened from conception. That of Gerald seemed strangely tinged its tenement. I had looked on death before. I had with melancholy, and as he sometimes stooped to caress shuddered as I viewed its victim. I had feared, as the his beautiful child, as it slumbered on the bosom of his shroud, the narrow coffin, the deep and silent grave, not less beautiful wife, or as sparkling with smiles, it passed before my mind's eye. I had trembled as I sprang to his embrace, Ida had more than once marked thought on the eternity that was unfolding; but man- the tearful eye and quivering lip which he in vain I strove to conceal. How in the very noontide of their tled in beauty, the destroyer inspired no terror now. stood beside Nina's couch, holding in mine her fevered happiness, there could exist one shade of sadness, Ida and emaciated hand, and as the pure, bland breeze of could not conceive. That Gerald could feel aught but evening swept over her transparent brow, stirring the joyful gratitude, at that gift which had cemented their dark, luxuriant curls, which rested on its marble sur-own ties, and promised to be "the rainbow to their future face, the tear gathered to my eye, as I thought how soon the tomb would forever veil from us the loved form over which we were leaning. A heavenly smile stole slowly over those beautiful features. The soft eyes were raised, and the low, sweet voice, broke the hushed stillness. Emphatically and distinctly she spoke: "I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth, and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." She paused, and as it were, collecting all her energies, she murmured, "I walk through the valley and shadow of death, yet I fear no evil, for Thou art with me." There were some long breathings, a convulsive start, a slight gasp, and we looked on dust! The spirit was infolded in a Saviour's embrace! years," she could not doubt that his love for her continued fadeless, she hesitated not to believe. What secret and untold grief preyed on his heart, then? It was a question she could not solve; and with the intuitive delicacy of woman, she shrank from soliciting the confidence her husband had thought proper to withhold from her. She had one day sung her cherub to its "rosy rest," and the fair child, cradled in her arms, reposed in the calm of dreamless slumber. With a mother's rapture, she gazed on its budding loveliness, and hearkened to its soft, gentle breathings. She arose, and leaning over the chair of her husband, who sat thoughtfully at some distance from her, held to his view the smiling babe-"How beautiful, dear Gerald," she exclaimed, as she In the stillness of midnight I stole with noiseless tenderly placed her precious burden on his lap, and tread to the room where lay what had been so lovely in rested her own arm affectionately on his shoulder; life-lovely even in death. The smile had not depart-"how beautiful! only see how glowingly the rose maned from the colorless lips; the fair wan hands were tles to that soft cheek; and the brow, dearest, is so like * Job. your own, so serene amid the dark, rich curls!" and the silken ringlets which had escaped from the baby's cap, | when they put the form I had loved so well, in the deep were gently put aside, and Ida leaned over and kissed grave, I wept-oh! such tears! shall I ever shed such its white forehead, with maternal fondness. Gerald smiled, for who could resist affection, clad as it was in its most fascinating garb? He passed his arm tenderly around the waist of his wife, and looked with a father's pride on that beauty of which she spoke so enthusiastically. There were visible only the beams of tenderness and joy in his dark eye. He stooped over the babe, and scarcely touched with his lips her velvet cheek, lest he might awaken her; but as he did so, there was breathed a half-smothered sigh, which the quick ear of Ida was not slow in detecting. "What language speaks in that sigh?" asked she, half reproachfully, half playfully; "how should the voice of regret be heard here?" and she glanced affectionately towards her husband and child. "It is not that I am ungrateful, my love," replied Gerald, "for those blessings which heaven has scattered so richly on my pathway. I ought to be happy, and were it not for one dark remembrance, which is ever throwing its shadow over me, I should be so. The cup of life, though wreathed with hope's bright flowers, holds bitterness in its draught, and as I look on my blessings, the thought of earth's 'pale changes' comes over me, with an intensity I cannot banish. I strive to chase these phantoms from my mind, and your affection, mine own, is clasped like armour to my heart, with almost a death grasp, to ward off the fangs of that viper, which is struggling to banquet on my vitals." The entrance of Mr. V- interrupted this conversation, which was becoming so painfully interesting to Ida. She received her child from the arms of its father, and casting a look of mingled sadness and love upon her busband, hurried from the room. The words of Gerald implied he was not happy! She brooded on that reflection with bitterness and tears, and who can tell the crowd of overpowering thoughts which came rushing over her heart, when in the hour of loneliness she recalled the confession he had made-those words so fraught with agony to her. Yet she swerved not from the wife's duty, and his tones of endearment (for he was always, even in his saddest hours, touchingly kind in his manner to her,) melted on her ear with the same sweet influences, which had given to the early years of her marriage such "magic of bliss." again! But Ida is mine now-and-and-and-but she shall not die. They shall not tear her away from my arms." Then with exhaustion he would sink back on his pillow, looking so death-like, Ida trembled lest his spirit might have passed as the tide of memory rolled over him. But he lived yet; and when-after a night of such deep slumber, that Ida almost feared death had come in that guise, so unmoved, almost breathless he lay-he awoke, weak and feeble, but with calmness and perfect renovation of his mental faculties, Ida felt a measure of gratitude which found expression in that fervency of prayer known only to the sincere believer. Each day now witnessed improvement in Gerald's health and spirits, and in proportion as the excitement of Ida's anxiety yielded to the almost certain hope of her husband's recovery, the traces of her untiring vigils might be read in her faded cheek and languid eye. But her heart was light; the emotions of joy, gratitude and love, filled it to overflowing. In the fond smiles of her husband she saw the assurance of returning happiness, and of the cloud which had flitted across the sky of their affection, she forbore to think. Her confinement to the sick chamber of Gerald had been uninterrupted, but as his strength returned, and he was enabled to dispense more frequently with her attendance, he used to insist that she would sometimes exchange her duties there, for the advantages of air and exercise, which she so much needed. One morning, when Mr. V― was paying his accustomed visit at Gerald's room, he proposed that he should take his daughter a short drive, saying she would be refreshed by the excursion, and that Gerald would not require her attention for at least the space of an hour or two. Ida began to excuse herself, but Gerald seconded Mr. V―'s proposal with so much earnestness, that she assented, and prepared to accompany her father. The weather was unusually bright and calm for the season-stern winter having just sunk the lance point--and Ida acknowledged the influences of the soft breeze, as bearing the fragrance of early spring, it breathed upon her pale cheek. But the thought of her husband's loneliness, rendered her anxious and impatient, and after a ride of an hour, she prevailed on her The despondency of Gerald augmented daily, and father to return. It was earlier than Gerald expected seemed to affect his health. He grew thin and pale,her, and on hastening to his chamber, she entered so and soon Ida ceased to remember her own griefs, amid noiselessly that he did not arise to welcome her, and inengrossing attendance on her husband, whose mental uneasiness prostrated him soon on a bed of sickness. For weeks she watched around his couch of suffering, oft-times scarce daring to hope life yet lingered-and in the long, silent, melancholy hours of night, she hung over his pillow, with that anguish of soul, before which words are powerless, while her heart was lifted in voiceless prayer to the God of her youth. In the delirium of fever she stood by his side, unshrinkingly, with unblanching cheek, though another name was mingled with her own, in his wanderings. "Emily! Emily!" would he reiterate—his voice softening into tenderness as he dwelt on the name—“ my beautiful, my lost one! why did they tear you from me?—ah! but I remember now; they told me the clanking chain kept you from murdering me! but I would not believe them-and deed seemed unconscious of her approach. He was sitting with his face buried in his hands, and on a table near rested the miniature of a very young and exceed. ingly beautiful girl. Ida leaned over the shoulder of her husband, and as her eye glanced momentarily upon it, the rich crimson leaped into her cheek, leaving it as suddenly deathly pale-she stood transfixed-she could not speak-her breath came faintly through her closed lips-the room swam before her like the shadowy objects in a dream, and she swooned. When she recovered, she was supported on the breast of her husband. With a shuddering remembrance of the past, she look ed towards the table. The picture, in all its glow of young beauty, was still there. "Then it was reality, and not the phantasm of imagination!" The recollection of Gerald's confession of unhappiness, the name so fondly |