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diff --git a/old/69029-0.txt b/old/69029-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d81f452..0000000 --- a/old/69029-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9370 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Genevra; or, the history of a -portrait,, by Genevieve Genevra Fairfield - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Genevra; or, the history of a portrait, - by an American lady. A resident of Washington City. - -Author: Genevieve Genevra Fairfield - -Release Date: September 22, 2022 [eBook #69029] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GENEVRA; OR, THE HISTORY OF A -PORTRAIT, *** - - - - - - - GENEVRA; - OR, THE - HISTORY OF A PORTRAIT, - - BY AN AMERICAN LADY. - A RESIDENT OF WASHINGTON CITY. - - COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. - - Philadelphia: - T. B. PETERSON, No. 98 CHESNUT STREET. - ONE DOOR ABOVE THIRD. - - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by - T. B. PETERSON, - In the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States, - in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. - - - - - TO - MARIE DE CARVALLO, - MINISTERESS FROM CHILI; - AS A SLIGHT BUT SINCERE TOKEN OF ADMIRATION AND ESTEEM, THIS - WORK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, BY - THE AUTHOR. - - - - -GENEVRA; OR, THE HISTORY OF A PORTRAIT. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -“Clarence, my dear fellow, pray ring the bell, and let us know when that -confounded dinner will be ready; the carriage will be here before we are -ready for a drive to the Campagna.” - -I felt out of spirits and in an ill mood; but mechanically I rose -and rang the bell. Our Italian attendant soon made his appearance. -“Peppo,”—demanded my friend, the Hon. Augustus Morton, in a mixture -of bad Italian and French, which he had learned during our two weeks’ -sojourn at Rome,—“Peppo, when will dinner be ready? Don’t you know I told -you this morning to prepare for us a nice English dinner, and have it -early too?” - -“Si Signor,” replied Peppo, standing with his toes bent in, twisting a -dirty velvet cap in his hand, ornamented round the edge with tarnished -gilt lace, “ma Signor Inglese, say cinque bra, non rolamente che tre ora -adesso.” - -“O, it’s only three, eh—how came I to make such a mistake?” He looked -at his watch: it had stopped. “Well, Peppo,” he continued, in Italian, -“can’t you tell them to hurry their operations, and let us have our -dinner now. We have an engagement. Go and see if they cannot serve it at -once.” - -Peppo made his obeisance, and disappeared through the low, narrow door. -“It is unfortunate that I did not think to set the time. We need not have -returned from Tivoli for an hour.” - -“I am not at all sorry, for my part,” I rejoined. “I take but little -interest in broken columns, decayed monuments, and old ruins, places of -assignations for owls and bats; in fact, one half the persons who visit -Rome care no more about these remains of Rome’s ancient grandeur than the -doves who make their nests amid the ruins. It has become fashionable of -late years to visit Rome, and carry home from the city a collection of -antique relics, busts, and every variety of curiosities, all of which are -treasured as rare trophies of travel in classic land; a feeling I cannot -at all sympathize with. You have the enthusiasm of the grandeur of Rome -almost entirely to yourself, my friend. I assure you I have had but few -attacks of the fashionable epidemic since my arrival.” - -“You are in an ill humor to day, I see, Clarence,” goodnaturedly replied -Morton, as he walked to and fro in our dingy dining-room with his hands -under his coat tails; “but it is not Rome that vexes you, half as much as -the comfortless dreary way in which they manage everything here. If we -could only transport our English neatness and comfort to this beautiful -climate, it would be a heaven on earth.” - -At this moment Peppo returned with the intelligence that the cook -absolutely could not serve dinner a moment before the time appointed. - -“Well, what can’t be cured, must be endured,” responded Morton, with a -shrug of the shoulders. “But since we have two hours on our hands, and -nothing to amuse us in-doors, suppose we take a walk toward the Coliseum, -and take another look at it. It bears observation more than once. There -is a fine artist, Signor Carrara, who lives in that vicinity, and, with -your leave, we will drop in at his studio, and examine his gallery of -paintings.” - -“As you please, Augustus,” I answered; for Morton being five years my -senior, naturally took the lead. We had graduated at Oxford together; and -on leaving England for a two years’ jaunt to the continent, my father had -particularly recommended his darling son to Morton’s fraternal care. We -had spent some time in Paris, flirting with the prettiest women we saw; -but that’s not saying much for them, after all; for the French women do -not depend for their attractions on beauty. They are sprightly, piquant, -and witty generally, but they do not possess that native beauty of form -and face, we meet with so frequently among the higher classes of the -German and English women. Taste in dress and the arts of coquetry, so -well understood and practised by the French women, supply the place of -greater personal beauty. While in Paris, Morton had purchased and shipped -for England a perfect cabinet shop of curiosities; but I, being less -influenced by the mania for everything foreign, bought but little. - -We had descended the Rhine together, and together admired the wild -majesty of its scenery. And sometimes as our bark glided past one of -those perpendicular mountains, whose summit seems to kiss the clouds, -on top of which, you frequently see perched the ruins of one of those -castles built in the olden days of feudal war and terror. Sometimes, I -say, I felt a desire to fix my abode, and pass my days in solitude, far -from the busy haunts of men, on the banks of that noble river. But then, -the thought recurred to my mind: A life spent in dreamy abstraction is a -useless one. A life without action, is like a body without a soul. The -busy world; the cares, disappointments, and numberless vexations one -meets with, all tend to develope many faculties of mind, which, buried in -the depths of solitude, might remain forever undiscovered. - -We had visited Vienna, the seat of elegance and learning; and after -spending sometime in the smaller towns of Germany and Switzerland, we -found ourselves one bright day at Rome. During a fortnight we had been -occupied every day in sight-seeing; visiting the Vatican, Saint Peter’s, -his Holiness the Pope, and all the wonders of the eternal city; and -eternal to me, in sober truth, it seemed, as, entering the ancient town -by Romulus’ gate, the city dawned upon my view like a vast ocean before -me. - -But where did I leave my friend? Oh, he took his hat, and so, cautious -reader, will I take mine, and follow him. We traversed several grass -grown streets, faced on each side, by old houses, built in the Italian -style, now fast tottering to decay. Before one of these, stood a company -of street singers. A man advanced in years, whose gray hair was illumined -by the bright rays of the sun, stood playing on a hand-organ, while a -sweet little girl of eight or nine years, with light hair and fine blue -eyes, jingled a tambourine at his side. There was something in the sad -subdued look of the child, as she timidly advanced toward us, perceiving -we were strangers, that almost called the tears to my eyes, as Morton -and myself simultaneously threw a gold piece into the old tambourine she -extended to receive it. - -We passed on, and the next corner hid them from our view. “What a pity -such a pretty child should be trained to beggary,” remarked I, as we -walked on. - -“Yes, it is; but such things are so common in this country, they have -ceased to astonish me: indeed, it would be difficult to say what had best -be done for the amelioration of the Italians; like everything else, they -have had their day; and now night and darkness are hanging over them.” - -I scarcely heard him; for now we came full in view of that massive -structure, the Coliseum. One side of it is much decayed and crumbled -away, and forms a gap in the round outline. We entered through one of -the ivy-hung arches, and found ourselves in the vast interior. Several -little shrines, the devout offerings of humble superstition, occupied -the vast space, where, so many hundred years ago, the gladiators had -fought in the yearly games. At one of these, covered with a white cloth, -on which were placed a crucifix and bottle of holy water, knelt a young -woman with her hands clasped in prayer. She wore the picturesque costume -of the Neapolitans. The attitude of devotion contrasted strangely with my -recollection of the scenes of which that place had once been the theatre -of action. - -“This is a most extraordinary structure, so immense!” exclaimed Morton, -whose ideas were of the most matter-of-fact description. - -I made no reply. My mind was abstracted, it had flown back to the olden -times. I thought I saw the dying gladiator leaning on his sword, while -the arena rung with shouts of triumph for his conqueror. I saw start -up from all parts of the old ruin, that vast wall of human faces, all -gazing upon the dying man; but what mattered it to him, the world and all -its cares was vanishing fast from his view; his glazed eyes close, his -clenched hands stiffen, and his spirit leaves its earthly tenement with -the last shout of applause for his conqueror. - -I started from my day-dream, and looking for my friend, saw him standing -at the other end of the amphitheatre, gazing wistfully up at the sky, -through the gap which yawned above us. As I approached him, he exclaimed, -“We had better go, or we shall not have time to see Signor Carrara’s -paintings before dinner, as we have been here an hour.” - -“An hour! impossible, it is not more than ten minutes.” - -“I know it seems no more than that to you; but it is, nevertheless, an -hour since we entered here; and I am afraid of taking cold from the -dampness of the ground; but you were dreaming of the ‘Sorrows of Werter,’ -or some other sentimental subject, and of course, thought not of time. -Come, mon ami, let us depart.” He linked his arm in mine and we passed -out into the street, leading to that part of the city he had designated -as the abode of Signor Carrara. - -After a few minutes’ walk, he stopped before an old mansion, built in the -Venetian style, with a balcony and latticed windows, jealously closed. -The appearance of the house was antique and gloomy, even more so than -any of the private mansions I had yet seen in Rome. Morton ascended -the door-steps, and vigorously rang the bell. The sound seemed to echo -through the whole house, as though it were deserted. A moment after I -heard the grating of bolts being undone, the door swing back heavily -on its hinges; and, standing on its threshold, I saw an old domestic, -with a grave, sad countenance, and dressed with greater neatness than -the generality of Italian servants. He smiled gaily, and greeted Morton -with a respectful obeisance, saying something in Italian, which I did -not understand; for Morton was an old friend of the Signor’s, having -visited Rome four years before. His question, “Was the Signor at home?” -he answered, “Yes,” and requested us to follow him. We traversed a -long gallery, then ascended a lofty staircase, ornamented with fine -paintings and statues, placed in niches along the wall. At the end of -another gallery, the Italian stopped at a door, and knocked. An elderly -man, whose hair was slightly tinged with gray, attired in a plain suit -of black velvet, opened the door, and, upon seeing Morton, shook him -heartily by the hand, and welcomed him back to Rome, in terms of the -most polite affability. His manner seemed to partake more of English -cordiality than of the grave distant manner the Italians generally -preserve to strangers. To my surprise, he spoke to me in good English, -upon Morton’s presenting me as Mr. Mowbray of London. Augustus entered -the room with the air of one perfectly familiar to its precincts, and -seated himself in a crimson velvet arm-chair, near the artist’s easel. -Persia’s carpets covered the floor; curtains of crimson velvet fell in -heavy folds from the windows; but the splendid paintings with which the -walls of the studio were hung, constituted its greatest ornament. There -were the faces of youth, and the faces of age. Side by side they hung. -There were Cardinals in their black velvet hats, and the heavy folds -of their black robes. There were the handsome faces of many of Italy’s -proudest sons, and the fair, unfurrowed brow, the black eye, large and -languishing, of many a one of its fair daughters. - -“You have not been long in Rome, I presume, Signor,” remarked Carrara, as -he returned to his easel, with his palette in his hand. - -“But two weeks.” - -“Two weeks! indeed, you owed an old friend a visit sooner,” addressing -Morton. - -“I should have done myself the pleasure of calling on you before this, -but I have been engaged in such a continual round of business, that -I really could not snatch time.” What a confounded lie, thought I to -myself, as I stood with my back to them, attentively regarding a picture, -which hung encased in a magnificent frame, opposite me. But Morton would -say anything as an excuse, to avoid offending a friend, and Signor -Carrara, as I afterward discovered, had been to him a very kind one. - -The picture upon which I gazed, was the portrait of a lady in the dawn of -youth. I felt certain that it was, or had been taken as the resemblance -of some earthly object. She was young and very beautiful. She could not -have numbered more than twenty summers when that was painted. She sat, -inclining forward, as if to speak. Her finger pressed to her rosy lip, -as though she said ‘beware.’ Her robe hung in light folds over the full -bust, and was confined at the waist by a scarf. A circlet of gems clasped -the small aristocratic head, and sparkled on the auburn hair. The hair, -put smooth back from the face, was gathered in two long braids behind, -which fell below the waist. The complexion, white as alabaster. The -eyes, so deeply beautifully blue. All these attributes combined to form -an expression of angelic purity and sweetness, such as I had never seen -expressed in any human countenance before. - -“Of whom is this a portrait, Signor?” I inquired of the Italian, -interrupting his conversation with Morton. - -Carrara’s black eyes rested sadly upon the picture a moment, then turned -suddenly away. - -“It is the portrait of an Austrian lady. A Viennese,” he answered -abruptly. - -“Is she living still?” I asked. - -“No, she has been dead many years.” - -“Is it not flattered? was she as beautiful as this?” - -“She was far more beautiful than I have been able to portray her.” - -“How long since it was painted?” - -“More than twenty years ago.” - -“What picture is it you are talking about, Clarence?” demanded Morton, -looking up from a portfolio of prints which lay upon the artist’s table. - -“This one,” I replied, pointing to it. - -“Ah, yes. I see a very handsome woman. I admire your taste. Pray, may -I ask her name, Signor Carrara, unless, indeed,” he added archly, “she -happened to be a beau ideal of yours; in that case, I waive the question.” - -The Italian blushed to his very eyebrows, and looked almost angry for an -instant; but he answered immediately, - -“You are welcome to ask the name of that or any other portrait in my -studio. Her name was Genevra Sfonza.” - -“I like the style in which it is taken. Very fanciful and airy. She -almost seems to be floating on a cloud,” observed my friend, as he came -and stood by my side before it. “If I had a wife and were going to have -her portrait taken, I should choose such an attitude. But I am thankful -to be a bachelor, untrammelled and free. A single man can visit, seek -lady’s society, if he wants it; in short, do what he pleases, without -having some jealous Juno tearing after him, if he happen to look at any -other set of features than his ‘cara spanta’s.’” - -Carrara smiled, and I laughed, as I always did at my friends’ drolleries. -“Come Clarence,” he exclaimed, seizing me by the arm, “let’s take a -general look at all the pictures, and then, if you are willing, return -home. Dinner will be waiting for us.” - -“We took a general survey of the rest of the paintings, among which were -some valuable originals, by the old masters. But none of them, in grace -of attitude, or beauty of expression, could compare with that of the -lovely Viennese. - -“I am quite in love with this picture,” I remarked to the artist, as I -again stopped before it; after looking at all the politicians, warriors, -sculptors, artists, and beauties portrayed on canvass. - -“Almost every one who visits my room, admires it,” responded Carrara. - -I felt almost jealous, as he said this, that any one but myself should be -allowed the pleasure of gazing upon that sweet face. I wished to have it -exclusively to myself, where I alone could come and look upon its beauty. -What selfish creatures men are. - -The kind hearted Italian offered us a collation of Smyrna figs, grapes, -oranges, and light Catalonia wine. We partook slightly, and then took our -hats to depart. - -“I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you frequently, during your stay -in Rome,” was his parting invitation, as he accompanied us through the -long galleries, and down the lofty stair-case we had ascended. - -“We shall certainly trespass frequently on your politeness, Signor,” was -our parting response, as we passed into the street and wended homeward. - -Arrived at our hotel by the same route we came; we entered our -comfortless dingy saloon, which served in the double capacity of -dining-room and parlor. The table was set for dinner, but no dinner -served, and Morton impatiently pulled the bell. Peppo answered the -summons, bearing in his hands a dish of roast beef, burnt almost black, -while treading close on his heels, came his female colleague, Jeannetta, -her hands loaded also with plates of different sizes, and looking as if -she bore the fate of Cato and of Rome upon her shoulders, attired in -all that dirty finery, for which the lower classes of the Italians are -distinguished. Peppo deposited, what he considered, this elegant repast, -upon the table, with the air of a conqueror offering his mistress the -spoil of foreign lands. - -“Here, Signor, here be one English dinner, la veritable chose, tout -entierement l’Inglese,” exclaimed Peppo, who valued himself upon his -acquirements in the languages, understanding about a dozen words of -English, French, and Spanish; but like many another fool, if he was -happy in his ignorance, and imagined himself wise, why it was just the -same—at least to him the same. I have often wondered, whether it were not -better to slumber on in ignorance, rather than make some little progress -in knowledge, and after all, discover (even should we reach the highest -point of earthly wisdom) that all is doubt and conjecture. - -“Come Mowbray, my friend,” cried Augustus, as he drew a chair to the -table, “come let us commence operations, for I am nearly famished. Peppo -where are the wine coolers and goblets, make haste and bring them. You -can go Jeannetta. Clarence what will you take?” - -I requested a piece of the before-mentioned burnt beef, and helped myself -to some peas, which looked as if they had been grown beneath the burning -suns of Syria, dashed over with some description of Italian sauce; as -for potatoes, they are an eatable unknown in Italy; nature, however, has -kindly supplied the place of many of our northern vegetables, by the -luxurious fruits of the country; one scarcely needs any other food beside -the luscious champagne grape, the yellow orange, pine-apple, zapota, and -a dozen other fine fruits, the names of which escape my recollection. - -“Here, Peppo, come take away this elegant English dinner of yours, and -serve dessert,” said Morton laughingly, after having tried in vain to -masticate some of the tough meats, and dried up vegetables. “Don’t make -another attempt in the English style, I beg of you, for really this one -is quite killing.” - -“Le diner no good,” ejaculated Peppo, holding up both hands in amazement, -“apres tous les soins que j’ai pris; je vous assure, Signor, que c’est -une diner a l’Anglaise.” - -“I assure you, my good fellow, that it is perfectly uneatable; here -take it all away, and hand the fruit and wine. I am sorry I told you to -attempt any thing in English style. I might have known we should get -nothing to suit us; however, make haste, for our carriage is at the door, -to take us to the campagna.” - -Peppo, in great agitation, at the failure of his attempt, removed -the dishes, and as soon as we had dispatched dessert, we entered our -Stanhope, and drove to the campagna. - -I kept my promise, and often visited Signor Carrara. I liked him more, -the better I became acquainted with him; there are some characters who -only show their fine traits upon a close acquaintance. We all of us, -more or less, feel an attraction of sympathy, or repulsion of antipathy -at first sight, an indefinite presentiment that we shall either like or -dislike; there was something in Carrara’s manner, so different to the -giddy light-heartedness of the generality of his countrymen, calculated -to inspire one with confidence in his integrity: his calm countenance -expressed benevolence, patience, and philosophical indifference. I might -have sought in vain for those deep traces of satiety and discontent, -which pleasure imprints upon the faces of her votaries. He seemed to be -at peace with all mankind, and among all his extensive acquaintance in -Rome, I never once heard him unkindly spoken of. I frequently passed -hours in his studio, while Morton was engaged in a continual round of -pleasure. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -Carrara inhabited but two apartments in his stately mansion, besides his -elegant studio, and a large exhibition room of magnificent paintings. -All the other apartments were locked up, and left untenanted, although -the old domestic, who had been a household fixture for more than -twenty years, informed me they were all splendidly furnished; although -uninhabited, and seldom opened, except twice a year, to be cleaned; I -could not help wondering that any man, especially a bachelor artist, -should keep a large, vacant house to himself, of no use to him, without -letting it to some one, as an Englishman would have done; unless, indeed, -he were a man of rank and fortune, but this Carrara, I presumed, was not, -and I had seen enough of him to be convinced of his unassuming mind, and -simple mode of living. Perhaps he had accumulated a comfortable fortune -by his unwearied application, and economy, and having secured sufficient -means for the future years of his life, thought it unnecessary to make -money by his house. Of his private circumstances I knew nothing, and, -therefore, dismissed the subject from my mind. - -“How many different faces, and what varieties of character you must see -in the course of a year,” I one day remarked to him, as he stood at his -easel, a large bunch of brushes in his hand, busily employed in painting -a naked nymph, bathing in a limpid stream. - -“Yes,” he replied, “an artist has ample opportunity, if he is capable of -doing so, of observing characters, as well as faces.” - -“Are you a physiognomist?” - -“I make no pretensions to being one.” - -“Can you tell an honest man from a rogue?” - -“I think I can.” - -“Then tell me, my friend, tell me truly, what do you think of my face?” - -I pushed back my hair from my forehead, as I asked the kind old Italian -this odd question; and he looked at me rather quizzically for a second, -as if to ascertain whether I was in earnest, or seeking to make game of -him; being assured, I suppose, by the grave expression of my countenance, -that I was serious, he answered: - -“You have a frank, talented, amorous expression of face, such as many of -your countrymen, whom I have seen, possessed.” - -“Amorous, is it possible you have made such a dreadful mistake?—you, a -man of so much penetration, to say such a thing as that; why my dear -Signor, I am as cold as the eternal snows of Russia’s mountains. I follow -the fashionable plan, and invariably treat all womankind with polite -rudeness; in fact, I think I hate women: the sexes are, of course, -natural enemies to each other.” - -“You cold, about as cold as the crater of Mount Etna; how can you sit -there, and presume to tell me such shocking stories?” Carrara laughed; -he seldom laughed, or even smiled, but when he did, his face lighted up -with a sunny glow. I was about to deny this accusation flatly, merely for -the sake of a laughing argument, when, in looking for a stray engraving I -was copying, which had fallen on the floor, I knocked down an unfinished -picture, which stood with its face to the wall; I glanced at it, and was -about to replace it in its original position, when Carrara observed, -glancing at it as he spoke, - -“Talking of variety of character, that woman certainly was an oddity in -her way: I never saw a more singular person.” - -“The original of this picture, do you mean?” I asked, as I set it back -again. - -“Yes,” replied the artist; “she was the friend of Prince Monteolene. -I painted a half length portrait for her, and began this one, but the -prince parted from her, after having lived with her three or four years, -and she left the city, leaving this picture unfinished on my hands.” - -“She was handsome,” I remarked, as I looked at the face more -attentively—“a voluptuous, not a pure, or spiritual beauty.” - -“Such was her character; she possessed some fine traits of disposition, -however, which, had they been accompanied by a well balanced mind, -trained to virtue, she might have been an ornament to society. She took -an interesting little girl from one of the nunnery schools, had her well -educated, and taught the science of vocal music thoroughly, then placed -her on the stage, through the influence of some of the professors of -music, who felt interested in the child; where she now is, a brilliant -star in the musical world. That action, certainly showed a kind, generous -disposition.” - -“Such incidents of character, are extraordinary, even among the best of -human beings, leaving the immoral out of the question,” and, I added, -“you artists have every facility, here in Italy, in regard to obtaining -models.” - -“We have more applications from poor girls, some reputable, some -disreputable, than we wish or require; many have offered themselves to me -as models, without price, and the very prettiest can be had for a small -sum.” - -“Are any of these models virtuous?” - -“I have known many who were correct in their behaviour, and, on the -contrary, many who were dissolute. A person, whether man or woman, reared -to all the comforts and elegancies of a luxurious life, can scarcely -conceive the many temptations to which these poor girls are exposed; -living in miserable huts, feeding upon the coarsest food; while men of -fashion and fortune, attracted by their pretty looks, frequently make -them liberal offers of protection, which they sometimes refuse, but -generally end by accepting. Besides, the standard of female virtue, does -not rank as high in our country as in yours; therefore, their departure -from the paths of virtue, is looked upon more in a philosophical point -of view, as a foible, incident to all humanity, and tolerated with more -leniency.” - -“I sometimes think the Italian plan the best.” - -“It may not be best, as regards the mass of the population, but -considered individually, I cannot but prefer it.” - -“Do you never feel sad, Signor?”—I asked suddenly, after having been -silent some minutes, absorbed in thought—“do you never feel sad -sometimes, when you reflect upon the frailties and miseries of poor human -nature?” - -“You are now, my young friend,” answered Carrara, “just on the dawn -of manhood, when, having indulged ideal dreams of what the world -_ought_ to be, you are gradually awakening to a perception of the vast -difference between the ideal and the actual; what now appears to you so -sentimentally sad, will gradually become a matter of course, and you -will grow fond of the world as it is; as your freshness of feeling, -and ideality of mind wears away, habit becomes a second nature; we -may dislike our habitation, but we dislike a change, because we are -accustomed to the old abode. Middle age and the decline of life, which -lessen our sense of enjoyment, increase our love of life for that reason; -and you will find, as you journey on, the longer you live, the more -tenaciously will you cling to life.” - -“I presume you are right, and if I live long enough to realize your sage -prediction, then I will think of your words.” - -I took my hat as I said this, considering that I had bored my kind friend -long enough, by a visit of three hours, and left the studio, with his -repeated invitation ringing in my ears, that I should come very soon -again, and pass every morning, if it pleased me, at his house. I directed -my steps toward modern Rome, and the Piazza del populo; as I passed along -the principal streets, I saw the shops adorned with every description of -masquerade dresses, and immense quantities of bonbons, in anticipation of -the approaching carnival; many of the giddy throng were already attired -in masquerade, passing each other; and all unlucky foot passengers, with -the “corfette” the Italians make such liberal use of during the carnival, -their animated gestures, and sprightly looks, forming a picturesque -scene. While above my head shone the cerulean sky, dotted with golden -clouds, and the horizon’s verge reflected the brilliant red of the -setting sun’s declining fires. - -The happy dispositions and buoyant temperaments of these Italians, enable -them to bear misfortunes, and even the squalid poverty, to which they are -frequently subjected, with a serenity of temper, and happy confidence -in the future, unknown to the colder inhabitants of northern climes. A -proud Englishman would put an end to his existence, were he obliged to -encounter half what an Italian would endure with philosophic indifference. - -I found the Piazza del populo crowded with equestrians, pedestrians, and -every description of equipages, giving a brilliant, showy effect, to this -classic and beautiful square. How many recollections of happy hours and -days, are connected in my memory, with the name of Rome; of weeks and -months, that sped like hours, borne only too rapidly away upon the wings -of Time. - -The ladies talked, laughed, and flirted with the gentlemen, as they -promenaded up and down, just as we do in England, or any other civilized -land; the liveried footmen stood together in groups, and chatted, perhaps -of scandal transpiring in their little world of action; monks glided past -me, their heads bowed down, telling their rosarys while they stealthily -eyed the women; the peasant girls in their tasteful costume, the red or -blue woollen petticoat, ornamented with black horizontal bands, exchanged -love tokens with their lovers; the military rode through the square, with -much display; the nobility bowed and smiled to each other, as they drove -swiftly by in their stately carriages; all nature, and almost every face -wore a smile. - -Leaving the gay scene, I passed out at the gate opposite to that through -which I had entered, and was standing gazing upon the lofty dome, and -magnificent colonnade of Saint Peter’s, which rose towering above all -other objects in the distance, when I felt my arm suddenly grasped, and -a stentorian voice exclaimed, “Why, good heavens, Clarence, is this you? -where in the name of wonder have you been all day? I’ve been wanting you -to accompany me to a hundred and one places, and here you are dreaming -about the Persian invasion, perhaps in the Piazza del populo. I’ve met -some very fine people here,” he continued, as he linked his arm in mine, -and gently turned me in the direction of our hotel. “Among others, -there’s a Countess Dettore, who having heard what a fine, agreeable -fellow you are, sends you an invitation, through me, to her grand party, -to-morrow night; come now, do be civil, and say you’ll go; I am going; -really, you have grown so desperately sentimental since your arrival -here, there’s no doing anything with you; you should go into society, be -gay, and enjoy yourself.” - -“All people don’t have the same mode of enjoyment,” I replied. “I enjoy -myself in my way, and you in yours; but who is this Countess of whom you -speak; how came she to hear of me, and send me an invitation to her ball?” - -“Oh, I knew her when I was here before, four years ago; she’s a pleasant, -chatty kind of person, gives nice balls, and that, you know, is the -principal thing; I dare say you’ll be pleased with her, however, when -you get acquainted; she’s often heard me speak of you since my arrival, -and so, being about to give a ball, took the liberty of sending you an -invitation, both verbal and written,” and he handed me a delicate little -note, superscribed in a small, feminine handwriting. - -“You’ve been with Carrara, I suppose, the principal part of the day? -you seem to have become great friends in a very short space of time. -Carrara’s a kind-hearted, eccentric creature: I never knew him to take -so sudden a fancy to any one, as he has to you. I went to Tivoli again -this morning, after you left me,” added my rattling friend, without -waiting for an answer. “I was charmed; such pure air, delightful scenery; -met Coningsby, he’s just from home, says he’s coming down to see you -to-morrow; he’ll return before we do, so we can send letters by him, if -you like, to your parents.” - -We passed the magnificent arch of Constantine, and I paused to admire -the exquisite fluting of the corinthian columns, and the statues of -Dacian warriors, with which its front is adorned; while Morton strolled -on ahead, picking wild flowers from the turf at his feet, and commenting -upon the absurdity of old ruined arches, and sentimentalizing on ancient -times. - -We found, on reaching our hotel, that my valet Henri, had been passing -away the time during my absence, by getting up a slight row with another -fellow of his own stamp, in which he seemed to have got the worst of it, -for he made his appearance with a black eye, and numerous other small -wounds, in the shape of sundry scratches and knocks in the face from his -assailant’s fists. He had a long and grievous complaint to make me, of -the ill usage he had received, and finished his speech by cursing Rome -and everything Roman, wishing himself safe back again in the land of his -nativity, the green mountains of the Tyrol. I interrupted him, however, -by my stern commands and solemn adjurations, not to implicate himself in -another such a fracas, hinting the fact, that upon a second repetition of -the same thing, he would be obliged to enter the service of some other -individual than myself, as I could not tolerate such disgraceful conduct -in a personal attendant. The poor fellow looked remarkably foolish on -hearing my stern rebuke, and promised obedience for the future, adding in -extenuation of his behavior, “that he had not sought the row: Gustave had -provoked him beyond himself; when others let him alone, he let everybody -else alone.” - -I afterward discovered, to my great amusement, that the whole affair -had originated from Gustave’s having taken a fancy to the same girl, -of whom my valet Henri was also desperately enamored; the result was, -Henri in a fit of jealous rage at her manifest preference for his rival, -said some insulting things to Gustave, which the latter would not take, -and they ended the matter by a personal encounter; not after the style -of the renowned knight of La Mancha, but in the genuine old fashion -of pummelling each other with their fists. Gustave possessing a more -athletic form and stronger muscles than my unfortunate valet, succeeded -in gaining a complete triumph over his rival in the courts of love. -The whole affair was vastly ridiculous, and Morton and myself laughed -vehemently at the discomfiture of poor Henri. - -“After all,” laughed Morton, “isn’t it ridiculous to see what a devilish -fool a man will make of himself for love of woman: it’s all the same -thing from a king to a beggar; the feeling is the same, the manner of -showing it alone, is different. Now I really do wonder if any woman could -excite me to the pitch I’ve seen this poor fellow wound up to, to-day?” - -“I dare say,” was my reply, “you and I are both human, and possess -passions and feelings in common with every one else.” - -“Well, I haven’t lost _my_ heart since I’ve been here; that’s to say, if -I really possessed any when I made my advent into this confounded old -ruined place; as for you, I believe you’re in love with an inanimate -picture. I prefer the real Simon pure flesh and blood myself; this -falling in love with senseless canvass I consider quite absurd.” - -“You need not take the trouble to tell me that, Morton,” I ejaculated, -bursting into a fit of uproarious laughter; “one need only look at -your face, to be assured that your feelings are not by any means _too -Platonic_.” - -He laughed most heartily, although the jest was at _his_ expense; and -chancing to turn our eyes toward the door, we saw Peppo, who stood there -bowing with all his might, like a chinese mandarin, and he informed -us, after many demonstrations of respect and divers flourishes, that -dinner awaited us in the new saloon, which had just been completed a few -days previous. The saloon, which poor Peppo considered such a perfect -chef-d’œuvre of architecture, proved to be a large, barn-like room, built -of rough beams, stuccoed over with a coarse, inferior sort of plaster, -very cold and comfortless looking, destitute of carpeting, and furnished -with a long dining table, chairs set round it, and an iron lamp suspended -from the ceiling, on this grand occasion of inaugurating us into our new -dining-room; the dinner was extraordinarily fine, although everything was -covered with oil and cayenne pepper in abundance, and Peppo officiated -with becoming dignity. - -This was Friday; the next day, Saturday, began the carnival, the great -annual fête of Rome. We breakfasted earlier than usual, and Augustus -joined the gay throng which crowded the streets in the direction of the -Corso, where I agreed to join him, after having paid a morning call on -Signor Carrara. Augustus declined accompanying me, as he said he wished -to observe the populace and the different costumes before the sport -began, and I, therefore, proceeded to Carrara’s house alone. - -At the street door, I learned from his old attendant Guiseppe, that the -Signor had not yet risen, being somewhat indisposed from a slight cold -and sore throat; I sent in my card, and was about leaving to rejoin my -friend, when Guiseppe came running back, saying the Signor “would be -happy to see me in his room, if I would honor him.” - -I followed the old man up the lofty stair-case, through the long -galleries past the studio, when he turned down a short passage and -ushered me into a small elegantly furnished room, where lay Carrara in a -black velvet gown and cap, reclining upon a sofa. - -“So you are too sick to accompany us to the gay Corso to-day, my kind -friend?” I asked, after having cordially shaken hands with him and drawn -my chair close to his sofa. - -“I do not feel well enough to venture out,” he replied; “nevertheless, -I thank you most sincerely for your politeness in calling for me; this -is a mere transient attack of sore throat, I presume; I have had many -such before, I shall be recovered from it in a day or two; I regret -not being able to see the horse races and the ball to-night, as I have -been an annual spectator for the last twenty years. You will attend the -masquerade ball this evening? of course, I need not ask, every one goes -to the carnival ball.” - -“I have not yet made up my mind, perhaps I may: it will be a gay affair I -suppose?” - -“Very: one sees such variety of costume, and variety of faces, it forms -altogether an interesting sight, especially to a stranger.” - -“I should think,” I remarked, glancing around the quiet room, “I should -think, my dear Signor, that you would sometimes feel lonesome, shut up -alone in this spacious house of yours, especially when sick, with no -female relative or friend to nurse you?” - -“Guiseppe generally answers all my purposes as nurse and attendant; he is -faithful and constant; when very ill I sometimes employ a hired nurse; -but as for other higher attentions, what is there about my person, a -poor, ugly old man, already tottering on the brink of the grave, what is -there about me to attract beauty’s gentle care? No, no, my dear young -friend, myself has sufficed thus far, and myself will suffice to the end; -my own thoughts and recollections of the past, are society enough for me.” - -I had never heard Carrara speak so sadly before, for although philosophic -in his tone of mind, he was generally cheerful, sometimes even gay. I -attributed it to his slight indisposition and his solitude, and took my -leave, promising to call on the morrow, and bring an entertaining English -novel to read aloud to him. - -As I mechanically traversed the long distance which intervened between -his house and the Corso, I soliloquized upon the lonely life a man -leads without wife or children. He seems to hang, as it were, a loose -disjointed member upon society, disconnected from the rest of his fellow -beings, by all those household ties, which seem to form the connecting -links of life. I thought of myself, and then my thoughts reverted to the -beautiful portrait in Carrara’s studio, and I ardently wished that I -might see the original of that picture. “Suppose you should see her this -day,” reason said, “will not time have changed her? where would be the -rosy hue of health and beauty’s bloom?” I suddenly remembered, Carrara -had told me she was dead. “She receives naught now, then, but the clammy -embraces of death; better that, however, than live to become a withered -hag, after having being so gloriously beautiful.” - -I reached the Corso, and sought diligently for Augustus, amid the dense -crowd there; but nothing could I see of him in that multitude, moving -to and fro like the gigantic waves of the ocean. I tried several times -to pass over to the other side of the street, but was pushed back at -every movement I made; I gave up the attempt at last, in despair, and -was about fixing my temporary abode upon a large sign post, commanding -an extensive view of the street and the course where the horses were to -race, when I felt myself gently plucked by the sleeve, and turning, saw -a young peasant, who quietly requested me to follow him; he had spoken -to me in broken English, supposing, I presume, that I did not understand -Italian, but I boldly demanded in his native tongue, what he wanted of -me. Some recollections flashed through my mind of stories I had heard, -about strangers in Rome being entrapped at carnival time by brigands in -masquerade; but a single glance at the face of this unsophisticated child -of nature reassured me, and I felt that my suspicions in this instance -were absurd. He uttered a joyful exclamation at hearing me speak Italian, -and said that my friend, seeing me in the crowd, had sent him to find -me, and requested me to come to him on the balcony of one of the old -Palazzo’s fronting the Corso. - -My peasant elbowed his way through the multitude to the steps of the -Palazzo; he then conducted me up stairs, through a splendid suite of -rooms, and out upon a balcony, where I was received by Augustus, who -anxiously inquired about the good old artist; and hearing that he was -too sick to accompany me, we mutually turned our attention upon the -gay scene at our feet. The Corso was already filled with coaches, and -persons on foot of every nation under the sun; but I saw but few masks. -A ceremony of some kind or other took place, I heard, at the Capitol, -which we did not see; in which a deputation of Jews formally petition -the governor of the city for permission to remain in it another year, -which he grants them upon condition of their paying the expenses of the -races. The military swept through the streets in their showy uniform; and -presently came the governor and senator (Rome’s fallen grandeur boasts -but one now) in a grand procession of gilded coaches, while behind them -came a great number of men, showily dressed, on horseback, bearing in -their hands beautiful banners, some of them elegantly embroidered and -presented by the ladies of Rome; after these had passed, the fun and -merriment began. - -A general pelting commenced from the windows of showers of sugar nuts, -which were exchanged by those in coaches as they passed. The whole -street presented a scene of childish gayety and confusion, perfectly -indescribable, and, absurd as it appeared to me at first, I became much -interested in the sport, and filling my pockets with “corfette,” began -pelting as manfully as the silliest among them. - -The windows and balconies were hung with rich silks and velvets, which, -waving in a gentle breeze beneath that glorious sunny sky, mingled with -the rich dresses, and often lovely faces beaming with smiles, as they -surveyed the animated multitude from the windows and balconies of their -homes. The loud laughter and sprightly movements of the crowd, all -combined to present a brilliant scene. - -The amusements of the day concluded with the horse race; a trumpet was -sounded, and fifteen or sixteen ponies made their appearance, led by -grooms very gayly dressed; who, after some difficulty, arranged the fiery -little steeds behind a rope stretched across the street. At a given -signal the rope was dropped, and away they flew down the Corso, as if the -evil one was at their heels; at their sides were suspended leaden balls, -filled with needles, which lashed them as they spurred forward, and the -wild shouts of the crowd as they closed in behind them, sent them on with -the fleetness of the wind; they ran furiously for about a mile, to the -end of the street, where they were stopped by a large canvass, suspended -across the way; not more than half reached the goal, and three or four, -I noticed, who seemed to dislike these kinds of operations, ran off, -knocking down everything and everybody who obstructed their progress. The -races are repeated every evening near sunset, during the carnival. - -The day’s sport being over, gradually this odd medly of human beings -left the Corso. I watched the different faces and forms as they slowly -disappeared; the women looking tired and languid, like drooping water -lilies; the robust peasant, and languid nobleman in his carriage; the -horse jockeys, and confused assortment of all sorts of vehicles, in the -course of a few moments had vacated the square. - -Augustus and I also left our position on the balcony, he, rather -reluctantly, for he seemed to have been quite enchanted by a young -beauty, stationed upon the balcony of a large house next door to the -Palazzo, who had been making love to him with her lovely dark eyes -during the morning; he said he should like to know who she was sighed, -and seemed to feel the premonitory symptoms of one of those attacks of -sentiment he had so often deprecated in me. - -A grand masquerade ball was to be given in the evening at one of the -theatres, for this purpose the pit was covered over, and the whole -establishment thrown open. One could wear costume or not, as they chose; -we preferred the civilian dress, and notwithstanding our preconceived -notions of its absurdity, and determined to be mere lookers on, we had -not been long there, before we became involved in the giddy whirl of fun -and nonsense, and talked and laughed as foolishly as any there; almost -all wore costume, but there were but few masks, many of the costumes -were tasteful and costly, others were wretched, and would have disgraced -the wardrobe of one of our strolling circus companys. I saw his satanic -majesty sipping ices with a Polish lady, while close behind them stood -a beautiful Aspasia, in another part of the room Achilles was savagely -flourishing his sword, and Venus sat at the feet of her Mars. Brother -Jonathan knocked against me, trying to make a first rate bargain; and -Paul Pry was there, attending to everybody’s business but his own. I was -deserted by Morton, who dashed after a blue domino, whom he took to be -his beauty of the balcony; he was disappointed, however, for although -the lady’s face was beautiful, it was not she. I saw many long-bearded -Turks, fops of a hundred years ago, and exquisites of the present day, -mad poets, quack doctors; and lastly, I saw what recalled to mind many -early associations—two handsome young persons, evidently lovers, in the -costume of Petrarch and his Laura; the girl’s face was fair and sweet -in its expression, she was a fine impersonation of that interesting -character, the records of whose life have been so blended with romance, -that we can with difficulty distinguish the real from the fictitious; -certain it is, however, that such a being as Laura once existed, and -that Petrarch, enamored of her real or fancied beauty, addressed to her -those eloquent sonnets, which are an ornament to the literature of his -time. I remembered to have read them when a boy, by a favorite sister’s -side, beneath the linden trees in the park of my father’s country seat; -now that sister slept the dreamless sleep of death, under the shade of -those very trees where in childhood she had played. The costume of these -lovers, and the recollection of the sonnets, and my companion in their -perusal, revived many a forgotten reminiscence of by-gone years. - -Aurora had already begun to display her golden banner in the East, when, -fagged out, and nearly stupified by our potations of champagne, we left -the ball-room; daylight had begun to force its way into the salon de -dance, displaying to no very fine effect, the tinsel finery, glazed -muslins and pasteboards, of which the generality of the costumes were -composed. - -“A ball is a stupid thing anyhow,” said Morton, yawning, “particularly -when its all over, and one has talked and danced one’s self nearly to -death.” - -I felt too stupid myself to make any reply to this philosophical -observation, as I followed my friend into our carriage. - -In such scenes passed off the gay carnival during eight days. Punch’s -performance, the gay masquerading, the odd tricks performed by itinerant -mountebanks, and divers absurdities of the populace themselves, formed -the daily routine, usually concluded at night by a ball. On the last -day, at night, after the races, the Corso appeared illuminated as if by -magic, with thousands of lights carried by those on foot, in carriages, -and displayed at all the windows; those are indeed unfortunate who -cannot afford a light on the occasion. It is every one’s business to -extinguish his neighbor’s light and preserve his own as long as he can; -it is impossible to give an idea of the effect produced by such an odd -scene, the glitter and confusion as they each endeavor to extinguish each -other’s torches and preserve their own, when viewed from the commanding -position we occupied on the balcony of the Palazzo, the effect was -singular and beautiful; gradually the lights became fewer and fewer, -until at last they disappeared, the noise of the multitude died away, and -the carnival was over. - -The next morning, after breakfast, Augustus absolutely persisted -in making me promise to accompany him to Tivoli, to pay a visit to -Coningsby, who had hired a villa there; and although I cared little about -going, yet to oblige him I consented. I sent the novel I had promised -Carrara by my valet, with my compliments and inquiries about his health, -but we had started for Tivoli before Henri returned with an answer. - -We remained a week with our friend, who, delighted to see us, entertained -us with noble hospitality. The tasteful arrangement of his villa, the -salubrious air and charming scenery of the surrounded country, over which -was scattered many an ancient ruin, successively claimed our attention -and admiration. Time spent agreeably flies rapidly away, on the contrary -moments passed in pain or sorrow, are anxiously numbered. When our -stanhope again stopped before the door of our hotel, it seemed but a few -hours since we had left it. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -It wanted two hours of dinner, and, leaving Augustus to scold the -servants and make whatever domestic arrangements he choose, I took my -hat and sought the way to Carrara’s house; the windows facing the street -were bolted and barred as usual; I knocked loudly at the street door, -but no one came; and after waiting a few minutes I knocked again, still -no answer; I concluded Carrara must be out of town, perhaps on a visit, -and was about going away when I saw old Guiseppe coming slowly toward the -house; I waited until he reached me, and then asked if his master was -well? - -The old man looked at me with grave surprise, and mournfully exclaimed, -“Ah, Signor! I see you have not heard the sad news. Master died the -second day after you left for Tivoli, and was buried yesterday.” - -“Carrara dead!” I shrieked, rather than spoke; “you or I must be -dreaming; it is impossible he could have died so very suddenly; he was -living a week ago when I left for Tivoli.” - -“He had been sick, you know sir, all carnival time; it was only a simple -sore-throat, to be sure, but he neglected it, he said it would get well -of itself; but he grew worse instead of better, and gangrene had taken -place before he would allow me to send for a physician. It was then too -late; master became delirious, and talked constantly about you, and -somebody whom he called “Genevra.” He got his senses a little, just -before he died, and calling me to his bedside, told me to give you a -packet, which he placed in my hands. I told him you had gone to Tivoli -for a few days, and that when you returned I would do so. He said he was -very sorry you were not here to see him die; that he never should see -you again in this world. Shortly after, he became speechless, and the -second day after your departure, in the afternoon, he died; a relative -of his came to town just in time to witness his death, and attend to his -funeral. He had written upon the back of the will, that it was not to be -opened or read until your return, and Signor Terra told me to request you -to call upon him as soon as you could after your return to town.” - -I scarcely heard him: I felt as if oppressed by a frightful nightmare. -The idea that that kind old man was dead, whom I had so lately seen in -good health and spirits; and dead so suddenly, so unexpectedly, was too -strange and unaccountable for me to realize. Mechanically I followed -Guiseppe into the house, and entered the studio, in which I had passed -so many pleasant hours since my arrival in Rome; nothing was displaced -from the position in which he had left it, when first taken sick; and -notwithstanding the consciousness of his death, I momentarily expected -to see his tall thin form, and benevolent face, appear at the open door. -Guiseppe had left the room, and I fell into a reverie, in which were -blended my sad regrets at this unexpected loss, when the old domestic -returned, and handed me the packet his master bequeathed me as a legacy, -together with the address of the lawyer who wished to see me. I put them -both in my pocket: and then turned to the old man, who stood by my side, -with his arms folded. - -“And you, my good Guiseppe, what do you intend doing, now the good Signor -is dead, where do you think of going to?” - -Tears startled in the old man’s eyes, as he replied—“I hardly know -myself, sir, what I shall do; I think I will return into the country with -Signor Carrara’s cousin; I only liked Rome, because I could live with my -dear, kind master; and now he’s gone, I would rather go than stay.” - -“If you conclude to remain, Guiseppe, and if my influence can be of -service in obtaining you another situation, call on me, and I will do -whatever I can for you.” - -“I thank you a thousand times, Signor,” answered the grateful Italian; -and I sadly retraced my steps to our hotel. Augustus was almost -as surprised as I had been, on hearing of the sudden death of his -artist-friend; he could scarcely believe it, so unexpected had been the -sad event, and expressed some curiosity to learn what I had to do with -Carrara’s will. - -I had not spoken of the packet to Augustus: that was my own little -secret; and when night had assumed her reign, I took a “bougie” and -established myself in my chamber, with the door locked to prevent -intrusion, and proceeded to the examination of this mysterious package. -After taking off the paper wrapper, I saw a small silver casket, locked, -and the little gold key belonging to it, lying within the paper; upon -unlocking it, I saw a bundle of manuscript, and a letter addressed to -myself in Carrara’s handwriting. Some of the papers of the diary had -already become yellow from age. I hurriedly opened the letter, anxious -to learn what this singular present meant; it was dated some days back, -during carnival time; the contents were thus:— - - “MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND, - - “I feel a presentiment of my approaching dissolution; already - the angel of death fans me with his wings, he beckons me to - come to that unknown shore; he invites me to drink of the cup - of oblivion, and forget all things in the quiet sleep of death. - I am now an old man; I have experienced all that I shall ever - experience of pleasure; the world is no longer either pleasing - or new to me. Death, therefore, so far from appearing an enemy, - seems like a dear friend, who comes to release me from future - decrepitude and imbecility. - - “You will recollect you one day asked me, while gazing upon the - portrait of the beautiful Countess Calabrella, what had been - her character, and her destiny in life? you seemed to admire, - and love to look upon, that picture; when living, no man ever - looked upon her without loving her; the manuscript enclosed - within the casket is a diary of her own life, which she, - confiding in my discretion, promised, and sent to me, previous - to her final departure from Rome. - - “The perusal of these sad recollections of her childhood, - I feel confident, will interest you; they will, at least, - exemplify the virtuous struggles of a noble soul, and that - determined will, and perseverance in the paths of rectitude and - morality, which sooner or later rises triumphantly over the - transient contingencies of fortune. - - “Farewell my friend, farewell; a mist seems gathering around my - eyes. Oh, it is nothing, I—” - -This unfinished letter was scarcely legible from blots and blurs; my poor -friend had evidently indited it but a little while before his death, -when his mind, as well as his body, enfeebled by illness, was becoming -confused. He could not have bequeathed me a “memento” more acceptable to -myself than this autobiography. - -I opened the papers, which were written in a bold free hand; snuffed the -candle, and began to read; as I did so, a small alabaster time-piece upon -my mantle struck nine. - - THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY. - -“While sitting to you for my portrait, you have often paid me compliments -upon my beauty. I will not say that the language of compliment is -unknown to me; yet, could you have seen me fourteen years ago, a ragged, -houseless, wandering orphan child, you would never be able to recognize -in my present self the same creature. My earliest recollections do not -extend beyond the age of six years; but I still retain an indefinite -remembrance of a tall, slender woman, who used to walk the floor with me, -and hush me to sleep in her arms; it seemed to be in the country, for -I remember hearing the mournful sighing of the winds, as they whistled -through the trees, and of being frightened at the sound; these may be, -however, merely the fancies or dreams of childhood. - -“My first distinct remembrance, is of being a ragged, dirty child,—the -protegé, or rather the slave of an old hag, the inhabitant of a wretched -hovel; when not subjected to her abuse and savage tyranny, I was -generally the companion of any little vagabonds I chanced to meet playing -in the streets. What right that old woman had to my person, or how she -ever obtained possession of me, I never knew; chance or fate, whichever -it is that rules the actions of mankind, removed me so soon from her -pernicious influence, and depraved example, that I never learned how our -destinies came to be united. She sometimes sent me out alone at night, to -the most public squares in the city of Vienna, and commanded me not to -return without a certain number of _sous_, under penalty of being whipped -with rods, till the blood ran down my back; frequently she beat me from -sheer malice, merely to exercise her ill humor. In winter, my bed was -a heap of dirty straw, in the loft of this miserable hut, where I lay -and shivered with cold, while my Hecate-like protector, crouched in the -chimney corner of the only room the house contained, dozed, and muttered -over the embers of her fire. During summer I played about the streets, or -grown bold from habit, boldly asked pennys from the passers-by, while the -old woman performed her daily routine of thieving or begging in different -parts of the town. - -“Thus passed two years, in this depraved and wretched way; I was then -eight years old, and reason began to shed some glimmering rays of light -upon my benighted mind. I saw that hundreds of other children did not -live as I did: some were beautifully dressed, their hair combed smoothly, -their faces and hands clean, while mine were as dirty as the rags I -wore. All this was a perfect mystery to me; I could in no way explain it -to myself, that other children, no prettier than myself, should revel -in luxury, while I was left a neglected beggar child; alas! knowledge -of the ways of the world has since then taught me the reason why. I -always experienced a sorrowful regret, when I saw other children gayly -dressed, smiling and happy. I did not envy _them_, but I wished to be so -situated myself. The old woman, whom I called Granny, sometimes imposed -upon the credulity of the vulgar, by telling fortunes; her wild eyes, -of a greenish color, and straggling gray hair, accompanied by strange -mysterious gestures, would not have disgraced the queen of the witches -herself; and I presume she would have taught me the same nefarious trade, -had not an unexpected event changed the whole course of my life. - -“It was on a cold, dark evening in December; the air was keen and raw, -and flakes of snow came driving along on the wind, when, after having -treated me with unusual severity during the day, the old woman dismissed -me to one of the principal squares, and forbade me to return until I had -obtained ten _sous_. - -“I took a little paper lantern, lighted by a bit of tallow candle, to -guide my steps through the dark and lonely streets, and went to the -square. I had been there sometime, and had collected but five _sous_, -from the unwilling charity of the passers-by; some of them, when I -timidly asked them for a _sou_, looked at me harshly, and passed on, -making me no reply; others gave it me in a contemptuous manner; and -one woman, as she swept past me, her long robe trailing the pavement, -remarked how absurd it was for the police to allow pauper children to -annoy people by their importunity. I felt so degraded and unhappy, that -unconsciously the bitter tears ran down my cheeks, and leaning my head -upon my arm, which rested on one of the iron seats of the piazza, I wept -bitterly; I longed to go home, but I dreaded the severe punishment which -I knew awaited me, if I did not return with ten _sous_. - -“I heard heavy steps coming up the gravel walk, and rose upon my feet; it -was a tall, stout man, enveloped in a large cloak; I could not see his -face; my little lantern was extinguished, and the moon had hidden herself -beneath the snowy clouds. I extended one of my cold little hands, and -falteringly asked him for a _sou_. - -“‘I haven’t a single _sou_ about me, my little one,’ he replied, in a -rough, kind voice, ‘nothing but a bank note.’ - -“He was about passing on, when trembling and animated by a sort of -desperation, I seized his cloak with both hands, and was beginning to -entreat him once more, when tears choked my utterance, and I sobbed -piteously; the man seemed touched by my grief, he stopped, and raising me -off the ground, exclaimed jocosely, - -“‘What, all this weeping about one _sou_, come with me across the piazza, -and I’ll get a bill changed and give you a hundred, if that will dry your -tears, poor little one;’ and then, inquiring, ‘In what part of the town -do you live, and who is it that sends you out such cold, stormy nights as -this, to beg; have you a father or mother?’ - -“‘No sir.’ - -“‘Who takes care of you?’ - -“‘An old woman.’ - -“‘Is she kind to you?’ - -“‘No; she sends me out to beg, and beats and abuses me, if I don’t bring -her as many _sous_ as she bids me bring.’ - -“‘Why don’t you run away?’ - -“‘I can’t: there’s nobody to take care of me if I did.’ - -“‘Come with me, and let me see how you look.’ He took my hand, cast his -ample cloak around my shivering shoulders, and I walked by his side to a -small fancy shop, the other side of the square. He began singing an air -as he walked along; it sounded perfectly celestial to my ears. - -“A pretty girl stood behind the counter, serving customers; she looked -like an angel to me then; and I thought that poor little shop must -certainly contain every beautiful thing on the face of the earth. After -getting a bank note changed, my new friend pushed back my matted hair -from my face, and attentively surveyed me from head to foot. I now saw -_his_ face; he was a tall, well made man, and his countenance bore -a good-humored expression; the result of his investigations seemed -satisfactory; for, turning to the shop girl, he said to her: - -“‘Mademoiselle Marie, can you oblige me by having this child’s face and -hands washed clean?’ and pointing to a child’s dress of blue merino, -hanging on the wall; ‘fit her, if you please, with a robe of that -description, with suitable clothing, and I will pay whatever you may -charge.’ The young girl looked astonished at this; but her amazement -in no way equalled mine. To be presented with, what appeared to me, a -princely gift, from an utter stranger, seemed too beautiful to be true. I -imagined he must be my guardian angel, who had assumed humanity to watch -over me; I was too young to perceive that the man had any _motive_ in -doing this benevolent action. - -“I followed the girl, whom he called Mademoiselle Marie, to a small, neat -chamber up stairs; where by dint of perseverance, and some strength, she -succeeded in restoring my face, neck and hands, to their original color; -she then took a comb and smoothed my tangled locks, put clean shoes and -stockings on my feet, clean under-clothing, and lastly, the pretty dress. -I walked across the room to a large mirror, and struck with astonishment, -contemplated my metamorphosis. I beheld a tall, slender child, with -an oval face, whose large blue eyes and auburn hair, gave a pensive -expression to the countenance; my complexion would have been a delicate -white, had it not been turned by constant exposure to the sun. Was it -possible that this interesting child was myself? I concluded it must be -an agreeable dream. - -“Mademoiselle led me down stairs again, to my new protector. ‘She looks -much better now, sir; don’t you think so, now she’s dressed nice and -clean?’ - -“‘Wonderful,’ cried my new friend, ‘I should scarcely know her. Now, my -child, I’ll tell you why I give you this pretty dress; I want you to -leave the old woman who has you now, and come with me and learn to be an -actress; would you not like to be a great actress, rather than beg in the -streets?’ - -“‘I don’t like to ask money of people; I don’t like that way of living at -all; but I don’t know what you mean by an actress; what do they do?’ - -“‘Poor child,’ ejaculated Mademoiselle, ‘how dreadfully ignorant.’ - -“‘Oh, it is the most charming life in the world; perfectly delightful; -you may yet become a great actress, and a happy woman.’ - -“I could neither appreciate, not understand what greatness was; but -I felt a vague comprehension of the word happy, for I had never been -anything but unhappy. After paying for my new clothes, my protector asked -me to show him the house where I lived. I dreaded to return to the old -woman, lest she should deprive me of my new clothes, and replace them -with rags; I, therefore, earnestly begged him not to take me back to -her; told him she would beat and abuse me, and take away my clothes; he -laughed. - -“‘Do you suppose,’ he answered, ‘that I care for an old hob-goblin witch. -I am merely going to see how much she will sell you for, and relinquish -all future right to your person; were I to take you without doing so, she -might trouble me hereafter.’ - -“‘Oh, I don’t want to be sold for a slave,’ I cried; struck with a sudden -fear; that perhaps he intended to make some kind of merchandise of me. - -“‘A slave, my child; I have no intention of making a slave of you, or -any one else I know of, at present. You don’t understand, my little one; -therefore show me the way, and be silent.’ - -“I led him to the old woman’s house; she did not recognise me at first, -as I entered, followed by the man, and placed her withered hand over -her eyes, to shade the sudden light, and distinguish who I was; for my -companion carried a large lantern in his hand, which he raised high above -my head, as he came in behind me. - -“‘It’s you, is it, you little devil; where have you been so long? where -did you get those new clothes; you stole them, didn’t you? I know you -did; oh, I’ll beat you, I’ll beat you.’ - -“She started, when she perceived my protector, who quietly closed the -door, and came toward her. - -“‘What do you want here, fellow?’ she sharply demanded; ‘what are you -doing alone at night with my girl? I sent her out to beg, and you bring -her back to me with fine clothes on; she shan’t keep them; I’ll strip her -of every piece; she shall be a beggar, a hag like I am.’ - -“‘Look here, my good woman,’ said the man, in a low quiet tone; ‘look me -straight in the face, and let us talk quietly.’ She obeyed; and taking -her pipe from her mouth, fixed her gaggle green eyes on his. His cool -determined manner seemed to exercise a novel influence upon her unsettled -mind. - -“‘This poor girl can be of little use to you; I should think, on the -contrary, she would be in your way?” - -“‘Oh, yes, she’s a deal of trouble to me; so bad, I can’t—’ She left the -sentence unfinished, and began smoking her pipe again, as she bent over -the fire. - -“‘I’ve taken a fancy to the child,’ he continued, ‘and came back with her -to-night, to offer you whatever sum you should ask, if you would give her -to me; I wish to bring her up, and educate her to the stage.’ - -“‘It’s satan’s own home; no, I’ll never consent that she shall be made an -actress. I mean to bring her up as I was brought up, to be a wandering -gipsy girl.’ - -“‘She is not your child, that is quite certain?’ - -“‘No, she is not mine.’ - -“‘How did you obtain her? did you steal her?’ - -“‘I shall not tell you.’ - -“He took a purse of gold from his pocket, and shook it between his hands; -the old woman eyed it eagerly; ‘come my good woman, you had better -consent to let me have the child; you may one day have the satisfaction -of seeing her a distinguished woman, and of knowing that it is the same -being you once took care of.’ - -“‘Great satisfaction will it be to me, when I shall be rotting in a -pauper’s grave; and great gratitude will she owe me for the kicks and -cuffs I’ve given her.’ The old woman laughed, a sneering, devilish laugh. -‘No,’ she continued in a low muttering tone, as if to herself; ‘my sand -is nearly run, almost gone; I see it in the embers; I feel it in my -bones. What difference does it make when you’re dead, whether you’re -buried in the ground, or burnt up? I’d as soon have a hole in the ground, -as a fine tomb.’ - -“During this dialogue I had remained silent, in a distant corner of the -room. The fitful gleams from the decaying fire, and the muffled light -of the lantern, partially illumined this witch-like apartment, and cast -fantastic shadows along the wall; in one corner was thrown a straw bed, -upon which the old woman slept; a table, two or three ricketty chairs -and a few pieces of broken crockery, constituted its sole furniture; -a ladder, placed against the wall, led to my sleeping place, to which -I nightly ascended through a hole in the ceiling. At length, arousing -herself from her reverie, she said, - -“‘You may have the girl for ten louis; if you’ll give me that, you may -have her.’ - -“‘Will you sign a paper I shall draw up; promising never to seek to see -her, or speak to her after she leaves you, as I wish to change her turn -of mind, and teach her better things.’ - -“‘Oh, yes; the girl hates me, and what should we want to see each other -for. As for me, I hate the whole world; yes, I hate it, I have had my -revenge; I have robbed, I have stole, and begged; and steal and beg I -always will, until I’m put in the ground. The world owes me a living for -the troubles I’ve had. No, I shall never want to see her again, if she -leaves me.’ - -“In the meantime, my new friend took a piece of paper from his pocket, -and wrote something upon it in pencil mark. I did not even know my -alphabet then; it is therefore impossible for me to say what were the -contents of that paper. I presume it was merely a legal technicality, -transferring all her rights over to himself. When he had finished, he -handed it to her to sign. - -“‘I can’t write,’ said she, ‘but I’ll make my mark.’ - -“‘Well, make a cross, that will do.’ She obeyed, and scrawled two lines -across each other; he took the paper from her hand, and put it in his -pocket-book; then counted ten louis from his purse, and placed them in -her withered claws. She carefully counted them over after him, and being -satisfied that the number was correct, deposited the money in a piece of -rag, torn off one of her garments, tied a string around it, and laid it -in her bosom. - -“The man rose, and gathered his cloak around him. - -“‘Come my child, my business with her is done; let us depart.’ - -“Strange anomaly in human nature; I, who one hour previous had desired -nothing so earnestly as to leave this wretched hag, now, on being offered -an opportunity of leaving, even for a new bright home, felt an undefined -sentiment of regret at doing so; perhaps it was the result of old -associations and habits, which we all of us, more or less, find difficult -to shake off. - -“I timidly advanced toward her, to say farewell, for I had ever stood in -awe of her violence, and savage nature; but she sullenly turned her back -upon both him and me, and began chanting, with her eyes fixed on vacancy. - -“‘You need not take the trouble of saying good bye, child,’ remarked -my self-appointed guardian, as he pushed open the latchless door—‘she -wouldn’t care a farthing if you were to die to-night. Come, little one, -are you ready?’ I took one hand; he grasped the lantern with the other; -she did not turn her face toward me as I went out. When my feet left the -threshold of that hut, I bade adieu to beggary forever, and entered upon -a new career in life. - -“I felt shy, and almost afraid, as I walked quickly along to keep pace -with him; for now that all ties were forever severed between old Granny -(as I was wont to call her) and myself, I looked upon him as my saviour -and protector; he traversed many streets, turning now to the right, now -to the left, in parts of the city where I had never been before; I wished -he had taken me back to the little shop and Mademoiselle Marie, but we -went nowhere in the direction of the piazza. At length, he stopped before -some building, and knocked at the door; I could not judge of the size of -the house, or its appearance, the night was too dark; the door was opened -by a male servant, holding a heavy silver candlestick, with a wax candle -in it, in his hand; my protector said something to him, in a language -I did not understand, and the man shut the door after him, and removed -his cloak from his shoulders. I now saw, by the light of a large globe -lamp suspended from the ceiling, that we stood in a spacious hall, or -vestibule, off which opened on either side beautifully carved, mahogany -doors; from the farther end ascended a lofty stair-case. My new friend -opened one of these doors, and I followed him into an elegant apartment, -where a bright coal fire burned cheerfully in the grate; the walls were -hung with costly paintings and mirrors; numerous instruments of music lay -scattered round. Such a place I had never seen, scarcely even dreamed of; -surely this must be fairy land. - -“‘Now child,’ said my friend, as he rolled a costly arm-chair before -the fire, and seated himself in it, ‘you must be hungry; have you had -anything to eat to-day?’ - -“‘Only a crust of bread this morning, sir.’ - -“‘Well, you shall have some supper, and then go to bed, and to-morrow we -will talk of your future prospects.’ - -“I had no idea of what ‘future prospects’ meant; but the idea of getting -something to eat delighted me; he rang a bell, and when the same domestic -answered the summons, who had opened the door for us, he again spoke to -him in the same unknown tongue. It was not German, or rather a degenerate -dialect I had always been accustomed to hear; it was a softer, a more -liquid language; he told me, in German, to go with the man, whom he -called Jean, and he would give me my supper, and if I wanted anything to -address him in German, and he would understand me. - -“I followed Jean across the hall to an immense room, opposite the -drawing-room, extending the whole length of the house, beautifully -carpeted with Brussels; while up and down the apartment, on either side, -were placed stationary seats of scarlet velvet, fixed to the wall; a -magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling; eight large windows on each -side, set with mirror plate, reflected and multiplied every object in -this handsome and commodious saloon. - -“In a distant corner stood a small table, set with supper for two -persons, all sorts of cakes, preserves, dried fruit, and bread; on a side -table sat two silver urns, one containing coffee, the other tea; a warm, -delightful heat seemed to pervade the room; but I saw no fire, and could -not imagine whence it came; the atmosphere of peace and repose, which -seemed to reign within this house, so different to the scenes of strife -and destitution, to which I had alone been accustomed, shed a soothing -influence upon my mind. In the course of the last three hours, I had -thought more than I ever had during my whole dark, blank existence. - -“Jean waited on me, while I ate ravenously. A comfortable meal was -something I had never enjoyed before; it is not, therefore, astonishing -that I was attentive to its merits; my usual repast had generally been a -few crusts of dry bread, sometimes the old woman gave me a bit of tough -meat, frequently tainted; this constituted my ordinary fare; yet, I was -then healthy and cheerful, notwithstanding my disconsolate condition. -I did not know for what purpose this man had taken me from the street, -this dark, tempestuous night, and placed me in so splendid a home; had -I been older, and wiser, I should naturally have suspected that he had -_some_ motive or object in this strange act of benevolence; as it was, -I enjoyed, with a keen sense of pleasure, the fine supper, and many -glittering objects I saw around me, without thinking, knowing, or caring, -what became of me hereafter. When I had finished supper, Jean reconducted -me to my protector, who still sat by the fire reading a newspaper; -he asked me if I had had supper enough; and upon my answering in the -affirmative, and gratefully thanking him for his kindness, he took me up -stairs to a little room in the second story, where he gave me in charge -to a neat-looking woman, dressed in black, with a white, frilled cap upon -her head; after telling her to attend me, and put me to bed, he returned -to the drawing-room. It was now past ten o’clock; and, fatigued by the -exciting events of the evening, I began to feel stupid and sleepy; the -waiting maid undressed me, and after seeing me comfortably wrapped up in -bed, left the room, and I fell speedily in a profound slumber. - -“The waiting maid, whose name I learned to be Marguerite, came early to -dress me; and I found my friend already at his breakfast, in a small -breakfast room back of the drawing-room; he drew a chair to the table, -told me to help myself, and went on eating and singing at the same time; -I needed no second invitation, and complied. When he had completed -his breakfast, he leaned back in his chair, and producing a large -handkerchief, vigorously rubbed his face; then turning to me, who sat -quietly beside him, drinking my coffee, he asked: - -“‘Did you sleep well last night, child?’ - -“‘Yes sir, very comfortably indeed.’ - -“‘It is awkward speaking to you, without calling you by name; by what -name did that old woman call you?’ - -“‘I don’t know that I ever had a name. Granny used to call me Nancy.’ - -“‘Nancy, that sounds harsh, I don’t like it;’ he seemed to think a -minute, and then said, - -“‘Genevra is a pretty name: I will call you that, since you are -unprovided with one; hereafter, remember to answer to the name of -Genevra.’ - -“‘Yes sir, I will.’ - -“‘Now come here, and sit upon my knee; I want to tell you what I intend -doing for you.’ I obeyed, and he placed me on his knee. - -“‘Now, Genevra, I call you by your right name; you remember hearing -me say last night to that old woman, that I intended educating you -for the stage, if I took you from her; you are too young yet to know -what that means, but you will learn in time. I have already adopted -two little girls, situated much as you were, and mean to educate them -also as actresses. I hope time will show that you possess a tractable -disposition, and sweet temper, without which no accomplishments can be -of advantage to you. You are to be placed at the same school with these -girls, who will, doubtless, be friends and companions to you in your -studies; in the course of five or six years, if you live, you will be -prepared, by dint of hard study and application, to make your _debut_.’ - -“One half of these remarks I had not understood; I only comprehended, -that I was required to perform something very difficult to be done; I -presumed a sort of punishment, which was to prepare me for some future -eclat; but after having experienced so much of destitution, slight -privations seemed light as air, and I joyfully welcomed the idea of, as I -thought, going to work. - -“He told me to run up stairs, and ask Marguerite to find me some sort of -hood, or bonnet, to wear out in the street. After an active search, she -at length discovered a gingham hood, which I hastily tied on, and ran -back to my protector; he took my hand, and we passed out into the street; -it was a fine clear day, I remember; the sun shone bright, although the -air was somewhat cold; how different I felt in spirit, as I gayly trotted -along by his side; I did not feel the same acute sense of degradation -I had always felt with that depraved old hag; the happy buoyant sense -of being, which is the principal of happiness in youth, was gradually -springing up again in my heart, which had been, as it were, stunted and -depressed, by a malevolent genius. - -“At a short distance from his own house, he stopped before a gloomy -looking dwelling, chequered alternately on the front, with red and -black brick; he knocked at a large gate, which seemed to form the only -mode of entrance to this convent-like abode; it was slowly unbarred -and opened by a stout german woman, dressed in the usual style of the -peasantry; my friend passed her without remark, and we ascended a heavy -stone stair-case, which wound upward from the court-yard; at the first -landing place he led me into a large parlor, furnished plainly, but -tastefully; the floor was uncarpeted, but waxed and rubbed till it shone, -and reflected every object like a mirror; a piano stood in one corner, -and all the chairs were covered with cushions, elegantly embroidered in -German worsted; two sofas were also ornamented with the same beautiful -work; there was no fire in the grate, however, and the room had a cold, -comfortless air about it; one mirror, inserted between the windows, -and opposite the door, as we entered, afforded me a full length view -of myself, and I started with astonishment at seeing the pretty form -reflected there; very different did it look from the ragged, dirty child, -I was accustomed to see reflected in the shop windows as I passed. - -“We had been seated scarcely a moment, when the door opened, and a small -thin woman, with a sharp, bright expression of face, wearing a calico -dress, and wrapped in a red shawl, came tripping in; they spoke together -for some time, in the same unintelligible language I had heard the night -before; at length, turning to me, the lady said in German, ‘So my dear, -you are to be a pupil of mine, I hear; I trust I shall find you obedient -and diligent.’ They resumed their conversation, while I sat quietly -by the side of my new-found guardian; holding his hand in mine, for I -felt sad, at thus being obliged so soon to part from him. I heard the -sound of mirthful laughter, and noisy whispering, which seemed to be in -the vicinity of the parlor, and looking down the stone-paved gallery, -I saw at its farthest extremity a door open, and within the room many -young girls seated at desks, studying. The house, in its architecture, -resembled more one of those old gothic cathedrals, I have since seen -in my travels, than anything else I can compare it to; it was lofty, -antique, and gloomy, one almost felt like the ghosts themselves, as one -walked through its stone galleries, and heard one’s steps resound with a -hollow echo. - -“When my guardian and the lady had finished their conference, which -lasted more than half an hour, he took his hat, preparatory to departure. -At the idea of losing this kind man, and being left in a strange house, -to form acquaintances with people whom I neither knew, nor cared for, I -burst into tears; the lady endeavored to console me, patting me on the -head, telling me I should be her little favorite, and she was sure I -would be contented and happy. Monsieur Belmont (I heard her call him so) -shook me repeatedly by the hand, saying he should see me regularly twice -a week; that I must obey Madame Deville in all things, and study hard, -that I might become an accomplished girl. - -“‘I have no doubt she will be both happy and satisfied, when she becomes -a little accustomed to the pupils and myself,’ observed Madame to -Monsieur Belmont, as she stood beside me, pressing my hand in hers. - -“‘I hope so,’ was his reply, ‘it will be at least three months, I -presume, before I can begin to give her instruction in music, she is so -totally uninformed.’ - -“‘Oh yes,’ cried she, with the sharp, quick intonation of a French -woman: ‘it will require at least that length of time to instruct her in -the rudiments; I shall try and do my best, Monsieur, I assure you, with -your protegé; before you go, would you not like to have Inez and Blanche -called from the school-room, that they may be introduced to their future -companion?’ - -“‘Yes,’ answered Monsieur, ‘if it is convenient, I should like to see -them.’ - -“Madame rang a small bell, which stood on a table beside her; a moment -after, a tall mulatto made his appearance. I had never seen any of the -negro race before, and was much astonished at, what I considered, the odd -color of his skin; he received her message, delivered to him in French, -and directed his steps toward the room at the end of the gallery, from -which he returned in a few minutes, leading by the hand two young girls, -both older than I; the one a brunette, the other a blonde; their manner -was lady-like, gentle, and winning. Inez’s hair was raven black, her eyes -large, voluptuous, and star-like in their expression; Blanche, on the -contrary, was timid as a fawn, in her look and ways: there was a dreamy -languor in her sad blue eyes, which seemed to tell of love’s present -or future reveries—a love, however, of a more spiritual kind than Inez -would ever be capable of feeling; a profusion of pale flaxen hair shaded -her sweet face, and hung nearly to her waist in long curls; they were -both dressed alike, in frocks of cheap calico; they bowed respectfully -to their teacher on entering her parlor, and upon Monsieur Belmont’s -presenting me to them as one who was to become a companion in their -studies, they politely kissed me on each cheek, and bade me welcome to -their school. I could not realize, while contemplating the refinement of -these two girls, that they had been taken, a few short years before, from -the same position in life, from which this philanthropic man had rescued -me but one day previous; truly, it is education, and the society in which -we mingle, which impress in youth that bias of mind for right or wrong, -which only leaves us when life does. - -“‘You three will occupy the same room,’ said Madame. ‘I hope you will -be good friends. Inez and Blanche soon cultivated a friendship for each -other after they came.’ - -“The tears still flowed from my eyes; my heart in after days, became too -hard and dry to allow me to weep often; but then the fount of feeling was -a fresh, pure spring, uncontaminated by the mud and refuse of inferior -streams. I often look back, through the heavy mist time has left lowering -upon those early days, and regret the loss of those fallacious hopes; -those splendid castles built in air, which always crumbled into dust -whenever I attempted to approach them. - -“Monsieur Belmont, after speaking to Inez and Blanche a moment, in -French, shook hands with me, bade me not cry, and departed. Madame -Deville reassuming the school-mistress deportment, and her gravity, which -had been laid aside to entertain a visitor, led me to the schoolroom, -and the two girls returned to their desks, their silence, and their -studies. It was a very large room, lighted by two enormous windows, one -at each end; the walls hung, not with superb paintings like Monsieur -Belmont’s elegant house, but with charts and maps; rows of desks were -ranged each side of the apartment, and more than a hundred girls, of all -sizes, shapes, and ages, were seated at them, busily engaged in coning -over their lessons for recitation. Upon my entrance, being a new scholar, -all eyes were bent on me, and a subdued whispering ran through all the -ranks of girls. Madame put me at a desk between Inez and Blanche, and -then taking her seat upon an elevated dias at the head of the room. She -struck her desk with a ruler, and called one of the classes; the girls, -who were called loudly, all rose, shut their books, and placed themselves -before her in a row. This class was composed of large girls, neatly -dressed, some of them were passably pretty; no two in the room, however, -could be compared to Inez and Blanche. They all stared at me as they -passed; it was a lesson in ancient history they were to recite. Madame -taking one of the books in her hand, asked the questions in a loud, clear -tone; and the pupils replied, some well, some wrong, according as they -had learned their lessons; the recitation ended, Madame marked those who -had missed upon a large day-book, which always lay open upon her desk -before her. Several smaller classes were heard, and Inez and Blanche left -my side for a while, to recite their lessons; then I heard the sound -of a deep-toned bell, rung for several minutes: it was now recess for -an hour; all the girls clamorously rushed from the school-room, seized -their sun-bonnets, and poured themselves into the court-yard. It was a -gloomy spot for a play-ground; there were no trees, no flowers, which we -are ever wont to associate in mind with children’s gambols. Nothing but -the square flag-stones, flanked on all four sides, by the brick walls of -the house, met my view. Inez and Blanche put up their books, and turning -to me, Blanche said, ‘Come, Genevra, come with us to the yard, and play -hide and seek.’ Inez also pressed me to go and play with them, for I -felt shy and strange, and would have preferred remaining where I was. -Blanche evidently was a favorite with Madame, for as she went out of the -school-room, to rest herself a few minutes in her parlor, before the -pupils returned to their studies, she kissed me, saying I must laugh and -play, and enjoy myself with the other children; and then said to Blanche, -‘Well, my dear, how is that fine soprano voice of yours, have you -practiced well this morning?’ Blanche smilingly replied she had; there -was a sweetness about that smile of hers, and an expression of guileless -innocence in her lovely eyes, I could never forget. - -“How little did we three inexperienced girls imagine what the future -had in store for us. Could a magician, at that period of time, have -shown us in a magic mirror, our several destinies in life, would we have -believed, that the fatal sisters had allotted to us so chequered and sad -a career? I am certain _I_ would not. How grateful should we be to Divine -Providence, that all insight into futurity is forbidden us; how unable -would we be to contend with the many trials and difficulties, which -constantly assail us in the rough pathway of life; could we foresee the -sacrifices which are so frequently demanded of us as we journey on. - -“Inez, Blanche, and myself, descended hand-in-hand to the court-yard; the -girls were all joyously at play. I always was a grave child; I cared but -little for the sports and amusements children so dearly covet, but on -this occasion I forgot my usual sadness and joined them in an animated -race, which lasted several minutes, when the bell again was rung; and -the girls arranging their disordered dresses, and composing their faces, -returned to the school-room in pairs, as they had left it. - -“Order was restored, and the rest of the afternoon spent in recitation -and writing; I saw several teachers, whom I had not seen during the -morning, having been absent in different parts of the house, giving -lessons in music and dancing. They were all thin, and had a starved and -hungry look, excepting Miss Jones, a fat, good-humored English teacher. -I became quite fond of her during my long residence at the school. I -learned from Blanche, that Monsieur Belmont, was a Frenchman, from Paris, -manager of the Royal Italian Opera, and considered the most splendid -singer in Vienna; he also gave lessons in vocal music to some of the -pupils at the school, among whom were Inez and Blanche; the girl dwelt -with touching sadness upon the humble condition, from which this kind man -had taken both Inez and herself, what advantages of education had been -afforded them, and how grateful they felt towards him. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -“Blanche had just finished her little story, related with an air of -childish simplicity, which gave infinite interest, when the loud sound -of a gun reverberated through the house. I had never heard one then, and -imagined it was thunder. Twilight’s dusky hue had stolen into the room, -before we were aware of its approach. Madame Deville commissioned my -future instructor, Madame Schiller, to attend to me, and, following her, -we went to the refectory; it was a long, low ceiled, narrow room; two -long tables extended almost as far as my eye could reach, covered with -snow-white table linen, and scanty portions of bread and butter; a glass -of water stood by each plate; weak tea was handed to the teachers, who -stood together in a group, apart from the girls, and chatted of their own -affairs. I could not help mentally comparing this meagre fare, with the -delicacies I had eaten the night before at Monsieur Belmont’s. It may -seem surprising, that a beggar girl should regret a style of living, of -which she had only caught a passing glance; but luxury is infinitely more -attractive than want; we sooner become accustomed to it, and lament its -loss when deprived of it. Very few would conscientiously prefer, had they -their choice, a life of rigorous self-sacrifice, to one of wealth and -splendor. It is generally a matter of compulsion and self-love induces us -to advocate that which we cannot change. - -“An unbroken silence was preserved during the meal; nearly two hundred -girls were gathered around the tables; they ate their slices of bread -and butter quietly, and scarce a sound was heard in the room, save the -whispered conversation of the teachers. At its conclusion, Madame Deville -said grace, and we all proceeded up stairs, through a long gallery, paved -with stone, as were all the vestibules in the house, to the study room; -this was a large apartment, near the dormitories, fitted up in much the -same style as the saloon at Monsieur Belmont’s; the monthly exhibitions -of the pupils, Inez told me, were held here. Every evening, for two -hours, the girls studied their lessons for the following day; the two -hours seemed an eternity to me, while the scholars industriously applied -themselves to their books. Madame sat at the head of the room in a sort -of pulpit, and with her finger pressed to her lips, might have passed for -the goddess of Wisdom herself. The expression of her features, when in -repose, was somewhat stern, still there was a kindness blended with it, -which showed she possessed a benevolent heart. I still think of her with -love and respect, although the remembrance of those days is faint and -dim. Another bell rang; the movements of the whole household seemed to be -regulated by bells; bed-time had arrived; a certain number of girls were -allotted to each dormitory, over whom presided one of the teachers. I was -to become one of Madame Schiller’s little flock. A shrine, tastefully -decorated, was placed at the head of each sleeping room, and the ceremony -of the office was read every night before the girls retired to rest. -Madame Schiller, with her hands clasped, knelt upon the floor, and we -all gathered around her; the low and solemn voice with which she read -the ‘office,’ made a deep impression on my mind. Inez and Blanche, with -their heads bowed down, devoutly told their beads. The ceremony occupied -perhaps half an hour, then the girls hastily undressed themselves, and -hurried to bed; the beds were small, but the bedding neat and clean; they -were arranged like the desks in the school-room, in two rows each side -of the room; mine was next to that of Blanche. I heard Madame ask, ‘Are -you all in bed, children?’ Some one answered ‘yes;’ she extinguished the -lamp, and silence and darkness reigned. I fell asleep and had a singular -dream. I thought I saw myself grown to be a woman, a tall handsome woman. -I stood upon the deck of a ship, driving furiously before the gale, -upon a stormy sea; the dark clouds lowered above my head, the waves ran -mountains high: a crowd of helpless frightened beings lay around me. I -alone seemed the only one on board this doomed vessel who fearlessly met -my fate. We were rushing fast on the rocks off the coast. I stood with my -arms folded on the forecastle; onward dashed the ship, the masts shivered -to splinters, and sails flying like ribbonds in the wind. As we passed a -high black rock, which rose menacingly above our heads, I looked upward, -and upon its summit, saw a man, who stood with arms folded like myself, -calmly contemplating the unhappy bark. He looked like an angel stationed -there, that after the pangs of death were past, he might convey to heaven -our souls; instinctively I extended toward him my hands, and cried, ‘Save -me, oh save me!’ He also opened his arms to receive me, and answered, -‘Come.’ At this moment, the vessel struck the breakers; one wild -unearthly yell I heard, and was engulphed amid the waves; I struggled -violently, but in vain, to reach the shore; the water filled my mouth and -my ears. I was suffocated, and lost my senses. I awoke, covered with a -profuse perspiration, trembling with fear; it was not yet day, all was -quiet in the dormitory, every one asleep. I lay still for a few minutes, -and gradually realized the conviction, that it was all a dream. I went to -sleep again; this time I dreamed nothing, and was awoke by Blanche’s hand -being laid on mine. Madame was calling the girls; she said it was time to -rise. I rose, dressed myself, and washed my face and hands at Blanche’s -‘toilette,’ there being none yet provided for me. When all were dressed, -prayers were said. Day had just began to dawn, it was not more than five -o’clock, and very cold in the dormitory, sleeping without fire; I felt -chilled and stupified by the raw atmosphere; we descended the stairs -again, and traversed the long vestibules through which we had ascended -the night before; the girls looked almost like shades from the tomb, as -they flitted along, and their pattering steps reverberated as they passed. - -“They went to the music room, where every morning, from five till seven -o’clock, the pupils in music practised in little cabinets, within each -of which was placed a piano; a glass window inserted in the door of each -room, enabled the teacher to observe whether they were attentive to their -duty. Not being a music scholar, I left Inez and Blanche to pursue their -practising, and went with Madame Schiller to the school-room; it was -dreary and cold. I sat down at my desk, and wished I knew how to read, -that I might entertain myself with a book. Several girls were in the -room, busily occupied with their lessons; having nothing to do, I leaned -my head on my desk and fell into a sort of doze; the time whiled slowly -away: at last I was startled by the loud sound of the gong; I started up, -sought out my two new friends among the crowd of girls in the gallery, -and having found them, went into the refectory to breakfast; the table -presented no novelty; the same slices of bread and butter, arranged as I -had seen at supper; a cup of weak coffee placed at each plate, instead of -the glass of water, constituted the only variation. I tasted mine, it was -execrable; yet ‘to the hungry man every bitter thing is sweet,’ and being -hungry myself, I ate my bread and butter, and drank my coffee, without -paying much attention to the taste of either; breakfast over, we returned -to the school-room, and I took my first lesson in my native tongue, by -beginning the alphabet. Madame Schiller was my teacher; Madame Deville -was also very attentive; she frequently said many kind, encouraging -things to me. I have described the routine of one day, so it was every -day, monotonous and regular as the ticking of a clock; at first I thought -it inconceivably dull; but gradually becoming accustomed to the school, -and being occupied and interested in my own mental culture, Time, which -at first dragged wearily along, flew more rapidly away, and I became -happy in my new home. I made several acquaintances among the pupils, and -these childish friendships added to my love of the school. - -“Two days after my advent at Madame Deville’s, a trunk, containing -several complete suits of clothing, was sent me, labelled ‘Genevra -Sfonza,’ from Monsieur Belmont; Blanche read the superscription, for -I could not; while I, delighted, contemplated the contents of this -unexpected gift; how kind, I thought, to send me such pretty clothes; the -dresses were of worsted, made high and plain, suitable to the cold season -of the year, and my school occupations; how I longed to see my good -benefactor, that I might thank him for all his care and attention to me. - -“The following day I saw him; he came to give Inez and Blanche their -singing lesson; I was called to the music room; I found Monsieur Belmont -there, talking to the two girls; they were the only tenants of the room; -at seeing me, he extended his arms and smiled; I ran in to them, with the -joyful glee of an infant re-united to its parent, for indeed, he seemed -to me more like a protector and friend, whom I had known for years, -than the self-constituted patron of a beggar-girl. He asked me if I was -an attentive, obedient pupil; if Inez, Blanche, and myself were good -friends, and if I were happy at the school. To all these questions I most -sincerely answered ‘yes,’ for the few days I had passed there, had been -the only happy ones of my whole life. - -“‘Don’t you wish you were far enough advanced in music, to be able to -sing with your two friends?’ asked Monsieur, as Blanche took her seat at -the piano, and arranged her music before her. - -“‘Indeed, I should like to sing very much; how long will it be before I -can begin to learn?’ - -“‘In the course of two or three months, if you are studious;’ and he -turned his attention to Blanche as she commenced her song. It was a -sweet melancholy air from one of the Operas; the words impassioned, and -reproachful. The clear, harmonious voice of Blanche, rose gradually from -a low, quiet tone, to a wild, bird-like burst of passion. She executed -the most difficult passages, with apparently, the greatest ease; higher -and higher, rose her tones; then slowly depressing them, they died -imperceptibly away. The song had ceased, and I had fallen into a reverie, -seated close to the piano, by Monsieur Belmont’s side; one might wonder -what I could have found to muse about, at that juvenile period of life; -but I always was a dreamy child, and still am a dreamy woman, with -this difference alone; my dreams now, are sorrowful regrets over the -past; then, they were the fanciful speculations of youth; my visions, -then, transported me to some sort of fairy, etherial existence, my -spirit seemed to leave my body and rove through infinite space; lovers, -or passion, had no share in those dreams of mine. I have since then -endeavored, but in vain, to recall those visions of fairyland; time, and -the bustle of an active life, have obliterated them from my mind. - -“Monsieur praised her improvement, and bade her be diligent at her -practising; then Inez came to sing her piece: her voice was a fine, rich -contralto, deep and melodious in tone. She sang a bold naval song, with -great spirit and effect. The next monthly exhibition was approaching, and -all the music pupils were preparing their pieces for the occasion. Inez -and Blanche were considered the two best musicians at the institution. -Monsieur Belmont advanced them more rapidly, it was said, than he did -the other pupils; probably he wished to perfect them more thoroughly for -their future debut on the stage. - -“Each took a lesson on a new piece, then our teacher departed. - -“‘Don’t you ever get tired of singing and practising, Blanche?’ I asked, -as she stood leaning thoughtfully against the piano, her eyes downcast, -while Inez gazed from the window upon the dreary street below. - -“‘Sometimes, yes; yet we know it is our duty to obey Monsieur, and if he -tells us to practise extra hours, we must do so.’ - -“‘How long do you practise each day?’ - -“‘Four, often five hours.’ - -“‘Oh, that must be very dull!’ - -“‘I am sure I think it is,’ exclaimed Inez, who was the most petulant of -the two; ‘I often wish I were a woman, and an actress; I should at least -be my own mistress, and obtaining money for myself; here I have been for -the last three, and you for the last two years; the same old monotonous -round of school duties to perform every day; no change, no home to go to -in vacation, always here. I don’t believe I shall ever live to get away; -when you have been here as long as we have, you will be tired of it too, -Genevra!’ - -“‘I don’t know; I hardly think I shall grow very tired; I like the -school; I love you and Blanche, and I am glad and grateful to have some -one to take care of me, and a home to stay in.’ - -“‘In a few years,’ said Blanche, ‘we shall leave the school, and go out -into the great world, to make our own way alone; then, perhaps, we may -look back and wish we were at school again.’ - -“At this moment one of the teachers made her appearance at the door, -and called us to our studies. Time passed quietly and regularly on for -two weeks; I learned my alphabet, and began to spell in words of two -syllables; the girls became used to my appearance, and no longer stared -and whispered when they saw me, as girls always do upon the advent of a -new scholar at a school. Inez was fourteen, Blanche twelve, and I eight -years old. In the course of a year or two, Monsieur Belmont intended -withdrawing Inez from Madame Deville’s, to teach her the art of acting, -preparatory to her entree into the gay world. That world, of which she, -nor any of us, as yet knew anything, and from which, in after years, I so -often turned away, disgusted with its heartlessness and insincerity, and -wished myself buried amid the inaccessible solitudes of Mount Lebanon. - -“It wanted but a few days of the monthly ‘soiree;’ the servants were -cleaning and arranging the saloon, where it was to be given. Inez, -Blanche, and myself, had been running furious races together during the -recess; I felt fatigued, from the violent exercise, and sat down where a -strong current of air, from a door, blew full upon me for some minutes; -when we returned to our desks in the school-room, my cheeks burnt like -fire, and my head felt heavy; I could not take my usual interest in my -lesson; for anxious to improve, I diligently applied myself; the letters -seemed to turn red, blue, and yellow, and swam before my eyes; late in -the afternoon, noticing my languor, as I sat leaning my head on Blanche’s -shoulder, Madame Deville asked me, if I felt unwell; I answered, ‘no, I -did not, but my head ached.’ - -“‘You don’t look well, my dear; I am afraid you are going to be sick; -you must go to the infirmary to-night, and be attended to. Wilhelmina,’ -addressing a tall, stout, flaxen-haired German girl, ‘take Genevra to the -infirmary, and tell Miss Jones to attend to her, and put her name on the -sick list, at least till to-morrow, when I will see how she is. Go my -dear.’ - -“The infirmary was a large, gloomy room, at the other end of the house, -where the pupils were sent, to be nursed, when the least indisposed, if -it was only a headache, or ordinary cold, and Madame happened to notice -a heavy eye, or listless demeanor, among any of her flock, they were -immediately dismissed to the sick room. - -“I did not want to go; it was only a slight cold I had taken from -over exercise, but Madame’s word was law, and must be obeyed, and -I, therefore, reluctantly followed my conductress to the infirmary. -Wilhelmina repeated her message to Miss Jones, and then returned. -Twilight was stealing over that vast city, not the unclouded twilight of -a summer’s eve, but winter’s dusky clouds, mingled with the clear blue of -the atmosphere. - -“Miss Jones, although English, spoke German well; she asked me if I felt -sick, and what ailed me? I replied, ‘only a slight headache and vertigo; -that I would have remained at my desk, but Madame, imagining I was ill, -had told me to come to the infirmary.’ - -“‘Madame is right, of course, my child; for all you know, these may be -the premonitory symptoms of a fever,’ and Miss Jones, with a learned air, -felt my pulse. I could scarcely help smiling at the comical expression -of assumed wisdom in the good-natured little woman’s face. ‘Your head is -hot,’ placing her hand upon my head, ‘and your eyes look heavy; sit down -quietly here; the doctor is coming soon, to prescribe for Miss Clarendon, -and then I’ll ask him what I shall do for you?’ - -“The little woman bustled about the room awhile, and then went out to -order some gruel made for one of the sick girls. I sat still, where she -had left me, in an arm-chair, near the window, and looked around the -room. Some half dozen girls were its occupants, all sick, and with the -exception of one, all in bed; my eyes dwelt more particularly upon her -than any other, being the most beautiful and conspicuous one among the -invalids, it was the young girl the teacher had called Miss Clarendon. -I afterwards learned from one of the pupils, that she was the daughter -of a widowed English nobleman, who had placed her at the institution to -complete her education, while he pursued his travels alone in the East. -She sat in a large fauteuil, nearly opposite me, on the other side of -the room; her whole person, except her etherial looking face, enveloped -in an enormous cashmere shawl. Her maid, a mulatto woman, stood by her, -bathing her pale face with eau de Cologne; her large blue eyes, heavy -and listless from ill health, and probably low spirits, were gazing on -vacancy; a slight, bright tinge of pink illumined each cheek, and gave a -brilliant expression of evanescent bloom to the countenance of this dying -beauty. - -“For dying she evidently was, of that most insidious and deceptive of -all diseases, consumption; far away from the home and associations of -her childhood,—alone, in a land of strangers. I thought, while looking -at her, that I had never seen any one half as lovely. Inez and Blanche -were beautiful, but they were not to be compared to her; they did not -possess that elegant bearing, that innate consciousness of superiority, -which showed itself in the very looks of this girl. She looked so calm, -so lady-like; at intervals she pressed one of her small, delicate hands -to her mouth, as if to stifle the hacking cough, which seemed to convulse -her frame. Her attendant offered her a lozenge; she took it mechanically, -put it in her mouth, and still gazed on. I walked across the room and -took a seat near her; she looked at me languidly, but made no remark. - -“‘Are you sick, Miss?’ I asked, curiously, for I wanted to hear her -speak. ‘Are you one of Madame Deville’s pupils? I have not seen you -before.’ - -“‘You are a new pupil, I suppose, and I have been sick for many weeks,’ -she replied, in intelligible German, but with a marked English accent; -her voice was sweet, and intonation very clear, ‘Are you on the sick -list?’ she asked. - -“‘Yes, Madame says so; she sent me here because I had a bad headache and -vertigo, but I don’t like the room, it’s so still and gloomy.’ - -“‘I wish I had nothing but a headache, I should not complain of the -gloomy room.’ Tears started in those soft blue eyes, and ran down her -cheeks. ‘Oh my father,’ she murmured in broken tones, ‘if you only knew -how desolate and lonely I am, I am sure you would come to me.’ - -“‘Don’t cry,’ I exclaimed, moved at her grief, and wishing to console -her, ‘I am sure you’ll get well yet.’ - -“‘Go away, child, you worry me; you cannot bring me what I long for, my -dear father.’ - -“‘Where is your father, is he very far from here? why don’t he come to -see you, when you want to see him?’ - -“‘He don’t know that I am ill, that I am dying; if he did, oh how quickly -would he fly to me.’ - -“‘Why don’t you write to him, and ask him to take you away from the -school?’ - -“‘I have written several times, but I know my letters are never sent, if -they had been, he would have been here long ago; I know I shall die soon; -it is now two years since father placed me here, and I have been sick for -more than a year. He went to Greece and Sicily. Oh, how I wish I were -with him. It must be a dreadful thing to die,’ she continued, after a -moment’s pause; ‘did you ever think about dying, child?’ - -“‘No, I never thought much about it; I always thought about being happy, -and wished to be so.’ - -“‘At home in dear England, I was happy, with all dear friends around us; -but to be ill in a strange country, among people I care nothing about, -and who care nothing for me, oh how dreadful it is.’ She hid her face in -her hands, and sighed, and sobbed. I wished I had been better acquainted -with her, I would have thrown my arms around her neck, and kissed her, -but I did not like to take such a liberty with an utter stranger. Miss -Jones stole suddenly upon us, followed by the physician, and I glided -back to my former position. He talked for sometime to Miss Clarendon in -a low voice, and she replied in the same subdued tone; I could not catch -any of their conversation. Then he passed to the bedsides of some of the -other invalids, and paused for some time at that of a little girl, who -was raving deliriously with typhus fever; her little hands lay outside -the coverlid, and she sometimes clasped them frantically above her head, -and demanded her golden crown. Poor little innocent, I hope she obtained -it in a better, brighter sphere; for, a few days after, I saw the same -slight form arrayed in its grave clothes, and she was borne to her last -and silent resting place. - -“The physician prescribed for me abstinence for twenty-four hours, and -a dose of Epsom salts, both of which recipes I considered entirely -unnecessary, as fasting was a virtue which we, from necessity, were -constantly obliged to practise, and as for the salts, I really did not -need it. It was now quite dark, and two lamps, shedding a dim light, were -placed by the nurse on tables at either end of the room. I saw the young -English girl undress, and her servant assisted her into bed; she coughed -continually, and the traces of tears were still on her cheeks; how sorry -I felt for her, if I had been a carrier-pigeon, how willingly would I -have flown to Sicily, or anywhere on earth, to have told that beloved -parent of her sad condition, and restored him to her. - -“I was permitted to remain up an hour longer, as it was only seven -o’clock; my head still felt heavy, and objects seemed to swim before my -eyes; in the background of the room, the nurse, in her austere dress of -black, stood by the side of one of the patients, pouring some drops of -liquid into a spoon, while the faithful mulatto, seated in a chair at -the bedhead, watched the uneasy slumber of her beautiful mistress; Miss -Jones walked quietly backward and forward. As I grew older, and became -more capable of observation and reflection, I often wondered how those -poor teachers managed to support life, dragging on from days to months, -from months to years, their monotonous, stupid existence: no prospect of -brighter days dawning on the future, nothing but a continual repetition -of school duties, repeated to an infinitude of times; habit, however, -becomes second nature, and constant occupation frequently prevents us -from dwelling with too much sensitiveness on personal misfortunes. - -“After taking the medicine, a gentle, soothing influence came over me, -and I dropped asleep in my chair. I awoke during the night, I was -still in the same position. Miss Jones had left the room, and the nurse -slumbered with her head leaning on a table; I felt benumbed from my erect -attitude, but sleep again overpowered me, and daylight found me locked in -the arms of Morpheus. I don’t remember what happened afterward; for nine -days I lay deliriously tossing on a sick bed, with an attack of fever; -at the end of that time I began slowly to recover. Inez and Blanche, -my beloved little friends, spent every moment they could snatch from -their studies by my side, telling me stories to amuse me, and exercising -their ingenuity in a thousand artless ways, to beguile away the tedious -hours of convalescence. Madame Deville and Monsieur Belmont, during my -illness, had often visited my bedside; they said he had been apprehensive -lest my disease should prove mortal. Madame, in her bustling, active -way, came every day to the infirmary, encouraged the sick ones, ordered -what she thought proper for them, and then bustled away again; there -was no difference in her manner toward either rich or poor girls: all -were treated alike. I loved her for that trait of character; she only -showed perhaps, a slight partiality in favor of those who made the most -rapid progress in their studies. This induced the pupils to emulate -each other in improvement, that they might deserve the approbation of -their directress. When I was sufficiently recovered to observe what was -passing around me, I looked for Miss Clarendon, but she was no longer in -the room; Inez told me she was a parlor boarder, and had gone to Madame -Deville’s private parlor, where she took private lessons, and amused -herself as she chose; she spoke of her sweet disposition, and various -accomplishments, and said that she was generally beloved by all who knew -her in the school. - -“It was a week after the fever had left me, before I was able to return -to the school-room; when I did so, Madame Schiller, and several of my -new acquaintances greeted me as if I had been an old friend; after -that I applied myself with energy and perseverance, and my improvement -was rapid. At the expiration of three months, Monsieur Belmont began -instructing me in vocal music; time, and intense assiduity at practising, -slowly developed my voice; he was a kind, but a severe and exacting -master; he obliged us to perform our allotted tasks, with punctuality and -exactness; if we did them well, he praised us quietly, but even slight -commendation from his lips was very gratifying. - -“The musical soiree had occurred during my illness. Inez and Blanche, I -was told, had sung charmingly. Poor little girls! the momentary praise -bestowed at a school exhibition, but poorly repaid them for the many -hours of labor spent in acquiring those bird-like tones. Several months -elapsed before I was sufficiently advanced in music, to be able to sing -at one of Madame’s ‘evenings.’ - -“One morning I was directing my steps toward the music room, to practise -my lesson, when I saw Miss Clarendon come running down the gallery, and -with a wild, passionate expression of joy and surprise, threw herself -into the out-spread arms of a grave, elegant looking man, who stood -quietly awaiting her approach. - -“‘Oh my dear father!’ she wildly exclaimed, as she impressed kiss after -kiss on his lips and forehead, ‘you have come at last to see your poor -sick child: I had expected to die without ever seeing you again.’ - -“‘You had expected to die! my darling child, what do you mean? I have -only this morning arrived from Greece: I have come to take you home to -England. Why do you speak in this sad way? Have you not been happy here?’ - -“‘I have been ill for several months,’ she sadly replied; ‘the doctor -says I have consumption; I have been so unhappy, too, away from you. How -happy I feel to be with you again, dear father!’ - -“The gentleman fondly stroked his daughters silky hair, and gazed with -paternal fondness upon that grief-worn, delicate countenance. She now -seemed happy and at rest, by the side of that parent, for whose presence -she had longed so earnestly; the surprise and pleasure of this re-union, -had lit up her face with an expression of feverish joy almost unearthly. -I remained a moment at the door of my cabinet and looked at them. - -“‘You are really going to take me away from here, are you not, dear -father? we shall return to dear old England.’ - -“‘Yes, my beloved child, you shall go with me; could I have foreseen your -ill health and unhappiness, I never would have left you; I have been -thinking of you, my love, during my whole journey, in Athens, at Mount -Etna, everywhere you were constantly in my thoughts.’ - -“‘I wish I could have ascended Mount Etna with you: how I should like to -see it.’ - -“‘It would have been too tiresome a journey for you, my darling; now go -and pack up your clothing, while I speak to Madame Deville before our -departure.’ - -“He went into Madame’s parlor, and his daughter walked toward the -staircase with a quick light step; she was going to leave the school; in -all probability I should never see her again: I was determined to say -farewell, and, therefore, ran after her. - -“‘Are you going away, are you going to leave us, Miss Clarendon?’ - -“She stopped and looked around; her face brightened with a sweet smile, -when she saw it was I who spoke to her. ‘Yes, Genevra, I am about leaving -you; my dear father has come to take me home to England.’ - -“‘Are you very glad to leave the school?’ - -“Yes, I am glad, because I am going to see many beloved friends, and -because I have suffered much since I have been here from ill health; but -I regret losing some of my school companions, and among them is yourself; -when I am gone, you must sometimes think of me, Genevra, and keep this in -remembrance of me.’ - -“She gently placed a small gold ring upon my finger, kissed me, and then -ran up stairs; I watched her till she disappeared, and then returned to -my piano, with the saddening reflection that we should never meet again. - -“An hour afterward I saw, from the window of the music-room, a dark -blue barouche, drawn by four dapple gray horses, standing before the -entrance to the seminary. Lord Clarendon was buttoning up his great-coat, -and speaking to a servant, while a liveried footman assisted the young -lady into the carriage, presently the gentleman followed also. As the -equipage whirled away, she glanced up at the house, and observing me at -the window, bowed, and waved her small white hand; they were quickly out -of sight. The recollection of that sweet young lady remained fresh in -my memory for years; I often wondered whether she ever lived to reach -England, or whether death’s iron grasp had seized her in a strange land, -and I often wished to see her, but my wish was never gratified. - -“Two years glided away: Inez had become a beautiful blossom; Blanche -was yet but a half-blown bud; I was a tall, slender child. During this -length of time I had made quiet, but steady progress in English, French, -and Italian, together with my native language; I had gained the love of -my preceptors, and I was happy, because I was occupied. We had become -a happy trio of firm friends, and notwithstanding women seldom agree, -we continued, from first to last, devotedly attached to each other. It -was, perhaps, my first grief of the heart, when Inez was withdrawn by -Monsieur Belmont from the school. True, I had suffered many privations in -early childhood, but they affected more my physical than mental system; -moreover the uncultivated mind of a child is incapable of reflection; but -now, from the beneficent influence of education, I could think—in after -years, I learned to reason too. Blanche and myself dwelt with sentiments -of regret upon our approaching separation from Inez; we seemed to love -her more, now she was about to part from us. I presume it was the -perversity of human nature, which enhances the value of those objects we -are about to lose. - -“It was the morning of her departure. Inez stood with her shawl and -bonnet on, in our preceptress’ parlor; Madame was also there, conversing, -and gesticulating with French vivacity to Monsieur. Inez had bidden -farewell to all her acquaintances, and tears dropped heavily from her -large black eyes. It was a lovely summer day; I heard the chirping of the -birds; the sun shone brilliantly; all nature seemed to wear a gala dress; -we kissed her in silence, and stood by her, each pressing one of her -hands in ours. - -“‘So, children, you are about to be separated,’ cried our mutual master; -‘you all look very sad about it, but Inez will be very happy, I know, -when she becomes a gay woman of the world; with her splendid voice, she -will make a sensation, and a fortune too. As for you, you will soon -forget your grief. Blanche’s turn will come next, and then you will be -left alone, Genevra.’ - -“‘Yes, sir, I know it,’ I mechanically replied, for I was thinking of -Inez. - -“‘Genevra has improved much in looks of late. Do you not think so, -Madame?’ asked the gentleman. - -“‘Yes,’ answered she, glancing at me momentarily. ‘I always thought her -a pretty child; she is obedient and polite, and very studious; but all -the pupils look better in warm weather, than during the cold inclement -season of the year; they will miss their schoolmate at first, I suppose, -but then they will soon grow reconciled to her absence, for children soon -forget.’ - -“Time demonstrated to me the truth of Madame’s observation, that -children, and sometimes men and women, ‘soon forget.’ Oh, beloved -companions of my childhood! how often have my thoughts reverted to the -innocent hours of pleasure, passed at that school. Where are now the -brilliant anticipations of the future? where are the devoted lovers, the -unfailing friends we fondly pictured to ourselves? Alas! like the shades -of Ossian’s heroes, they have faded into air, thin air. - -“Our adieus to Inez were weepingly paid, and we saw her depart with our -teacher; he promised to send us an account of her debut, and kept his -word. A few months subsequently a literary Gazette was sent to Madame, -who, after reading it, showed it to us; a paragraph, marked with ink, -indicated an eulogium upon the personal appearance, and exquisite voice, -of the beautiful young cantatrice, Mademoiselle Inez Fontana. She had -made her debut at Berlin: this was a Berlin newspaper. How delighted she -must feel at her triumph. For the first time, it occurred to me that it -must be a fine thing to have the world’s applause. Blanche and myself -were pleased at her success; almost as well pleased as we would have -been at our own. One is generally gratified at hearing of a friend’s -celebrity; it flatters our self-love, since it is _our_ friend who has -obtained renown. - -“The days and weeks, and months, still sped onward. At first, the loss -of Inez seemed almost irreparable; in all our amusements we had always -formed a little party among ourselves, now our ‘set’ was broken, and we -missed her joyous ways; different to my beloved, confiding Blanche; she -was apparently more impassioned, but in reality less so; there was an -under-current of strong, deep feeling, in the disposition and character -of my fair-haired favorite, her more volatile companion never possessed. - -“At length Blanche also was removed by M. Belmont, and I was left alone; -rumors of her success, and of the popularity Inez had acquired, often -reached me in my retirement from the busy scenes, in which they now -occupied so conspicuous a position, and I felt happy in knowing that -they were admired; and morning and evening, when I knelt in prayer, with -my heart filled with devotion towards that one all-wise, all-creative -Influence, I never failed to breathe a prayer for their future happiness -and prosperity. - -“My own turn came next, four years after; the time had dragged along -drearily since the departure of my two friends, and I longed to go; -eight years had now elapsed since my advent at the institution. I had -perfected myself in three languages, all of which I could speak fluently, -and translate well. Madame Deville, and dear Madame Schiller, were both -tenderly attached to me, and I bore toward each the most respectful -regard. - -“‘I trust, my dear Genevra,’ said Madame Deville to me one day, as I sat -in her room, making for her some wax flowers; ‘now that you are about to -be removed from my protection, I most fervently trust that you will ever -bear in mind the principles of integrity and truth, with which I have -ever endeavored to inspire you; and never, I beg of you, allow yourself -to be deceived by the skilful tongue of flattery. A beautiful actress -is invariably exposed to many temptations, which other women, occupying -a more private position in life, are seldom subjected to; you possess -accomplishments, and personal attractions, which will procure you the -admiration of men, and the envy of women; but if you pursue a virtuous -course in life, and place your trust in God, I doubt not you will be -rewarded.’ - -“‘I hope I shall ever remain true to the principles of honor and virtue, -which have been taught me by you, Madame, since I have been your pupil,’ -I responded. I admired and respected my good preceptress; but her -knowledge of life had been circumscribed, during twenty-five years, to -the narrow limits of her school. She drew her conclusions of what the -world ought to be from her own thoughts, and she supposed that honesty -and virtue are ever rewarded, because she had read in some half-dozen -moral novels I had seen her peruse, that such was the case. Had she -mingled in the gay vortex of society, she would have seen that unblushing -assurance, combined with knavery, passes with the multitude for genuine -talent; that unassuming merit is never appreciated, and generally -descends to the tomb unsought for, and unknown. All these things I -learned from experience; a harsh, yet at the same time a just master; the -only one, perhaps, who can practically convince us of the truth of an -hypothesis. - -“‘My child,’ suddenly exclaimed Madame, ‘you are composing a -parti-colored lily: I want a white one.’ - -“In fact, absorbed in thought and dreams of the future, I had arranged a -lily of red, blue and white leaves; I smiled at the odd effect and began -another. - -“‘Monsieur Belmont informed me, the other day, that he intended taking -you to Naples, to make your first appearance there at the San Carlo,’ -observed Madame, as she turned a page of the book she was reading. - -“‘Ah! indeed,’ for this was unexpected news. ‘I thought I was going to -rejoin Inez and Blanche; I should like to be with them.’ - -“‘I thought so too, but it seems not; neither are they with each other at -present. Inez still performs at Berlin, where, it seems, she is a great -favorite; and Blanche is at Munich; the journals speak of her as warbling -like a nightingale. It scarcely seems four years since she left us; you -were all dutiful, obedient pupils, and have done honor to the school by -your great musical talents.’ - -“Madame closed her book, and left the room; I laid the bouquet of wax -flowers which I had just completed, upon a table, and rose to go also; -as I did so, my eyes unconsciously rested upon the enormous mirror, in -which eight years ago, I had seen my tiny person reflected, the first day -I came to school. I again saw myself reflected on its smooth surface; -instead of a small, delicate child, I beheld a well developed girl, whose -long hair fell in ringlets to her waist; the expression of her features -was thoughtful, almost sad. While gazing upon this inanimate image of -myself, I fell into a reverie; every little incident that had ever -happened, during my long residence at the house, seemed to be vividly -revived by memory. I looked around upon the parlor and its furniture; I -wished to impress the appearance of that room upon my mind, that I might -be able to recall it, perhaps for my amusement; at some future day. I -was going into the world, to enter into a new sphere of life, among new -faces, and new scenes. Inez and Blanche had before this been initiated -into its mysteries; perhaps too, they had changed and become women of the -world, but I trusted not. - -“The loud ringing of the bell, which was always rung at twilight, to -assemble the pupils for study, aroused me, and I joined my companions. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -“The following day I departed, Madame Deville kissed me several times, -and warmly embraced me. She seemed to feel more regret at parting from -me, than I had seen her manifest upon the similar occasions of bidding -adieu to Inez and Blanche; for myself, I felt sorry to leave, and yet -glad to go. To spend one’s existence in an automaton-like performance of -fixed rules, laid down for us by others, is surely not a life of action; -and action is the object and purpose of our being, that each should bear -his share of the joys, cares, and responsibilities of existence, is -evidently the intent of our being sent upon earth. - -“Monsieur Belmont placed me in the hackney coach, which was to take us -to the post-house, whence we took the diligence, to one of the principal -towns on the road to Naples; my luggage was strapped on behind; my -teacher placed himself by my side and closed the carriage door; the -driver cracked his whip and we started. As I heard the rumbling of -the coach wheels on the rough stones of the pavement, a feeling of -loneliness, of isolation, stole over me. I, a simple schoolgirl, had left -the abode of years, and was about to be cast forth upon that great chaos, -the world; still I hoped that the invisible hand of some angel-guardian, -would guide me safely through the dark clouds of obscurity, even unto the -bright sun of the most perfect day. Since that day I have travelled over -half the inhabited world, but I never experienced a sadder feeling, than -on the day I bade farewell to the boarding-school at Vienna. - -“It was a sweet morning in the month of May. Inez had left us in the -summer time, Blanche, when autumn’s yellow leaf strewed the ground; -but a fresh spring day heralded my departure. The brisk trot at which -we travelled soon carried us beyond the suburbs of the city, and the -magnificent metropolis of the Austrian empire, its monuments, splendid -churches, beautiful gardens, and glorious works of art, were left behind. -My eyes dwelt upon them admiringly, as they gradually receded from my -view; I was proud of the country, and place of my nativity; and in that -great city I had lived for so many years, and yet was as ignorant of -its gayeties, its vices and its crimes, as any poor countryman from the -neighboring mountains. - -“Our road lay along a fertile plain, bordered on the right by a lofty -chain of mountains, on the left a small stream ran gurgling by; the -gentle murmur of its waters sounded like the regular sonorous breathing -of a sleeping child. Monsieur pulled out of his pocket a newspaper, and -went to reading politics. It was evident that beautiful scenery had no -charms for him. He left me undisturbed to my meditations, and I followed -them; I looked down on the long green grass at my feet, interspersed -with wild flowers, and I looked up at the blue heavens above my head, -traversed here and there by fleecy white clouds, and I felt thankful -to the beneficent Creator of all things, that he had placed me in so -beautiful a world. I glanced across the plain at the lofty dark blue -mountains, and then turned to the opposite side, where groves of tall -poplars and graceful lindens waved their dark green foliage in the -sunshine. - -“Gradually, as we journeyed on, the scene changed; the plain was -distanced, and we ascended a hill and rode through a thick forest. I -listened to the mournful cooing of the doves, the chirping of the birds, -and the hollow sound of the breeze, as it whistled through the trees; -the snake glided through the brushwood and vanished at our approach, and -the deer ran startled away, little partridges ran about on the ground, -calling each other in the unintelligible language of the brute creation. -I enjoyed everything I saw with that untarnished freshness of feeling, -the attribute of early youth. Man becomes accustomed to anything, and -everything, and a continued repetition of the same thing, even if it be -beautiful, becomes tiresome. To love or appreciate a person or thing -long, we must throw around it, or them, an air of mystery, of reserve, -for undisputed possession sooner or later brings satiety. Poor frail -human nature! why is it, destined child of dust, that thou canst only -love ardently while the object of thy passion is unattained? A lover -will run all risks, do anything to obtain his mistress; yet when once -his own, grow weary of her in a month; the fervor of his passion will -cool down to positive indifference, sometimes degenerate into neglect or -personal abuse. - -“Monsieur still sat coning over the news; he had journeyed that road -a hundred times before, and consequently did not care for trees, nor -flowers, nor green grass. Towards evening the driver drew up before the -door of a small, dirty-looking post-house, situated in a deep ravine, -surrounded by steep precipices; a waterfall ran bounding down the rocks, -with a wild, musical sound. The situation was picturesque and grand; -two women, upon their knees, on the edge of the stream, washing their -clothes, chatted to each other, and their faces wore the expression of -smiling content. Upon the steps of the house sat a beautiful girl, sewing -some ribbonds together; on which she was placing glass beads of different -colors. She smiled to herself as she did so, probably anticipating the -effect this piece of rustic finery would have upon the heart of some -village lover. A princess, while contemplating a tiara of diamonds, could -not have felt happier than did this cottage girl with her head-dress of -ribbonds. There is something charming in nature, and in rural life; it -is so natural, so pure, so unalloyed by the manœuvering, the hypocrisy, -the turmoil of social existence; it is the primitive state of being our -first parents led, and to its peaceful shades has many a hackneyed man -and woman of the world returned, as a tired child to its mother’s arms, -to seek for peace and repose. - -“After waiting sometime the diligence made its appearance; we got into -it, ourselves the only passengers, and the carriage returned from whence -it came; the postillion winded his horn as we flew rapidly away. We -followed the course of the Danube; it was a dark night, the sky only -illumined by the stars; I could not obtain a distinct view of this -majestic river, still as we rolled along upon its beautiful banks, I -thought of the lessons I had so often repeated about the invasion of the -Goths and Vandals, and how they had crossed the great river on their way -to Rome. - -“Our journey occupied the space of four days; we travelled without -stopping, and long before we reached Naples, my strength was nearly -exhausted from fatigue. When the boundaries of Italy were passed, and we -had entered upon the fertile plains of Tuscany, my eyes dwelt delighted -on all they saw. The peasantry in their fanciful costume, the blooming -vineyards, and pretty cottages, all, by turns, enraptured me. Monsieur -Belmont sometimes talked to me about Naples and my future career; -sometimes read the everlasting newspapers, in which he seemed to take so -lively an interest, and sometimes dozed away the time. - -“We passed several beautiful villas, and fine plantations; in the latter, -numerous male and female peasants were at work in the fields. Their -care-worn faces, begrimed with sweat and dirt, bearing testimony to the -labor they performed; from my heart I most sincerely pitied them. To -stand for hours under the burning heat of the sun digging, ploughing, and -gathering the grape when harvest-time arrived, could be no enviable task; -the women were frightful, the sun had turned their naturally dark skins -to a copper hue; their short petticoats exposed their sinewy legs and -bare feet, large and ugly, from never having been compressed in shoes. -They scarcely looked like human beings, and my gaze wandered quickly away -in search of more romantic objects to dwell upon. - -“We stopped an hour at Pisa to dine; and as everything is hurry and -confusion at an Italian Inn, upon the advent of a stranger, Monsieur, -learning that our dinner would not be ready for a quarter of an hour, -took me down the street to look at the celebrated Leaning Tower of Pisa. -We paused before its graceful front, and I looked up at the eight tiers -of white marble arches, each different from the other in architecture, -and each beautiful. We ascended to its summit by a circular stairway, -which wound round and round within the building, till my head became -confused; from the top I obtained a fine view of this ancient, and once -powerful city. I looked down upon its broad, well-paved, but almost -deserted streets, and recalled the warlike days of the republic. The -tranquil Arno still ran swiftly past, as it did then; the plain on which -the town stands was just as smiling and lovely, as in the days of yore, -but the spirit of enterprise and commerce, which had once animated and -enriched this classic town, had forever passed away. - -“Dinner was ready when we returned. The excitement of the journey, and -visit to the Leaning Tower, had almost deprived me of appetite, but -my teacher made amends for my bad taste, by eating with the greatest -voracity; he seemed to wonder at my indifference to the viands set before -us. - -“‘Why don’t you eat, child,’ he suddenly demanded, while masticating some -oranges, ‘are you not hungry? I should think you would be after such a -long ride; you had better eat something, for you will need nourishment -before we stop again.’ - -“‘I don’t want anything to eat at present, sir,’ I answered, ‘and I have -some biscuits in my pocket; if I feel hungry, I can eat them. - -“Once more we were off; we now had company, in the shape of two Italians, -young students from one of the universities of Pisa, returning home to -Naples; they were handsome, talkative young men. The usual civilities -having been mutually exchanged, Monsieur and they soon became involved in -a long political discussion, interesting, I have no doubt, to them, but -tiresome enough to me, since we take but little interest in that which -we do not understand. Their conversation was sustained, apparently with -much animation on both sides, for some hours. Monsieur Belmont talked -well, he had seen a great deal of society, in all its different phases, -and was a perfect man of the world; he did not look upon it with the same -feeling of satiety, with which a _roué_ views this fair earth; he had not -the refinement, the elegance of mind necessary to form that character; -his was merely the worldliness of a business-like mind. The young men -with whom he conversed, were evidently inexperienced and unsophisticated; -their views of life, and society in general, were certainly more -theoretical than practical. - -“It was the fourth day of our journey, we were rapidly approaching the -enchanting Parthenope, the far-famed Eldorado of Italy. Already I could -see the distant summit of Vesuvius, vomiting forth clouds of smoke. The -majestic castle of San Elmo, upon the hill, and that of Castle Nuovo, -by the harbor, looked like two faithful sentinels, watching over their -beloved city. Innumerable vessels, from all quarters of the globe, and of -all sizes and shapes, rode quietly upon the azure bosom of the beautiful -harbor. The domes and spires of its gothic churches rose high in air, -glittering in the sunshine. The character of the scenery had changed as -we neared the town; the dense, gloomy forests of Austria, and the wild -mountainous scenery of northern Italy, had given place to the rocky, -volcanic soil, and level plains of the environs of Naples, adorned with -grapevines and fruit trees, while far away in the distance I saw the -dark-blue tops of the Appenines. Well may the Neapolitan exclaim, with -patriotic ardor, ‘See Naples and die;’ he thinks it a piece of heaven -fallen upon earth, the garden spot of the world, and, with justice, may -he cherish this opinion. - -“The coach horses dashed down the hill leading into the city, as if the -prince of darkness was at their heels, dragging the diligence after them -at furious speed. Our travelling companions left us as we entered the -gates; and after dashing through the fashionable thoroughfare, the street -called Toledo, the postillion drove in various directions, up one street, -and down another; now through broad, handsome streets, now through dirty -crooked lanes, until at length, he stopped before the door of a cottage, -built in gothic style, of gray stone; it faced upon a quiet, pretty -piazza, adorned with trees and flowers. Honeysuckle, myrtle and cypress -vine, hung gracefully around the latticed windows of this sylvan abode. I -wondered where my guardian was taking me to. - -“At the noise of the coach wheels, the street door opened, and a woman -who had once been handsome, but whose interesting countenance now bore -the traces of age, attired in gray silk, stood upon the threshold. She -bowed and smiled to Monsieur as the diligence drew up; he undid the coach -door, jumped out, assisted me to do the same, and then presented her to -me as Madame Bonni. - -“‘This is my little protegee, Madame, whom I wrote you I should bring -on to Naples this year to make her debut; we have had a long, and dusty -travel from Vienna.’ - -“‘I am delighted to see you, my friend, and you also, my child; but pray -enter my parlor, and I will order refreshments for you; you must feel -very much fatigued after so long a journey.’ - -“The good lady took my hand and led me into her parlor. Monsieur, after -giving some directions to the servants about the luggage, followed also. -It was really a fairy little room, hung with fine paintings on the -walls, damask curtains at the windows, several marble statues placed on -pedestals, while a melodious musical box, and a beautiful canary bird in -a cage, seemed to vie with each other in harmony. I took a seat near a -window, the lady sat opposite me, and Monsieur threw himself on a sofa, -and complained of the hot weather and trouble of travelling. - -“‘So this is the young lady who sings so splendidly; but I understood -that you had three protegees to bring out: where are the other two?’ -inquired the lady, after having attentively surveyed me for a moment. - -“‘This one is the youngest of the three; they were all educated at the -same school together—Madame Deville’s, at Vienna—but Inez and Blanche -completed their education first, being the oldest, and have been -performing four or five years. Inez is making a fortune for herself at -Berlin, and Blanche I left at Munich.’ - -“‘I should like to hear the young lady sing, if she will oblige me with -a song; I have a fine piano here.’ She crossed the room, uncovered an -enormous German instrument, and ran her fingers over the keys. - -“‘Certainly my pupil will be happy to do so,’ said my teacher, answering -for me. ‘She has no need to be afraid of singing: her voice is -magnificent; she will make the greatest singer of the day. Come, Genevra, -sing something from Norma for my friend.’ - -“I placed myself at the piano; I was confident of my own abilities, and -therefore felt no hesitancy in complying with the request. I chose an air -from Norma, and sang it. I recollected many years before how astonished -I had been at the power and compass of Blanche’s voice, but now my own -tones far excelled hers. I was almost surprised at myself, as I rose from -the piano. - -“‘Magnificent!’ cried the lady, ‘I never heard such a voice, not even -among our best songstresses; so much sweetness and power combined; she -will make a great sensation in our city, when she makes her appearance.’ - -“Monsieur smiled; he looked pleased, but said nothing; I presume he was -afraid of spoiling me by too much praise. At this moment, a domestic -entered, bearing a tray of refreshments, and conversation for the moment -was postponed. - -“Madame took me into her pretty garden, and showed me her birds and -flowers. She gathered me a bouquet of choice flowers, which I afterwards -placed in water. When I went to my room at night, she told me she was the -widow of an Italian army officer, and now lived upon an annuity paid her -by government; she never had any children, and felicitated herself upon -my visit, as that of a companion and friend. She was not intellectual, -nor pretty now, but kind-hearted and sincere, and sincerity and goodness -are certainly attractive. I did not in return confide to her the details -of my childhood, for I could not have done so without humbling myself in -my own, and in her esteem, and my pride would not allow me to do that, -but I spoke on general subjects; of the city, its beautiful scenery, and -splendid buildings, and of the beauty of the peasantry I had seen as I -journeyed toward it. On these subjects the enthusiastic Italian was at -home, for the Neapolitans are desperately enamoured of their own lovely -land. We passed an hour in pleasant conversation, then returned to the -parlor, where tea was served; my teacher favored us with a song; he sang -magnificently; and I also sang a duet with him, which elicited Madame’s -raptures. At ten o’clock, we retired to rest, I felt almost worn out -with fatigue; the lady conducted me up stairs, to a neat little chamber -opposite her own. - -“‘I hope this room will suit you,’ said the kind-hearted woman, as she -followed me into it; ‘if you want anything, pray ring the bell and my -servant will attend you; I know you must long to go to rest, after so -long a journey, so I will not tire you by conversation. Good night, my -child.’ - -“‘Good night,’ I replied. The door closed, and I was left alone; I set -my little lamp in the fire-place, and after I had undressed and repeated -the rosary, I stepped into the pretty bed, draperied with white, and drew -its curtains close around me. I could scarcely realize that I was not in -Madame Schiller’s dormitory; and, at dawn, I started suddenly from my -slumber, imagining I heard her voice calling the girls to rise. Finding -myself wide awake, I thought I would get up, and did so; all was quiet in -the house, no one stirring; faint hues of morning sun were rising slowly -in the East. I heard the sound of deep, sonorous breathing, as I passed -a door at the head of the stairs, which I justly concluded were the -nocturnal tones of my guardian. I went into the parlor, and finding on a -table an interesting novel, took it in my hand, and sought the garden; -under a wide-spreading Acacia tree, I sat down upon a rustic bench; I -saw an old female domestic making a fire in the kitchen, and beginning -to prepare breakfast; I looked at her as she moved about, and wondered -if I should ever live to become as old and ugly as she; if my cheeks, -now so round and firm, should become shriveled and hanging like pieces -of dried skin; my form, attenuated and hideous; my hair turn gray and -fall out, and my eyes watery and blinking, like those of a sick lap-dog; -yet it was natural to suppose, that in the course of nature all those -things would come to pass. We see those who have once been handsome and -intellectual, grow ugly, old, and stupid; their beauty fades away like -a fleeting dream; their intellect declines with the vigor of body which -supported it. If mind is soul, and if the soul is immortal, should we -not reasonably suppose, that this etherial principal would preserve -itself bright and untarnished from the gathering gloom of years; that -time, instead of dimming, would only add new glories to its spiritual -splendor; but these thoughts were then too metaphysical for my youthful -comprehension. - -“While thus I mused, the sun had risen high, and his bright rays fell -across the gravel walk where I sat; I heard footsteps in the vestibule, -and looking up, saw Madame Bonni attired in a white muslin wrapper; she -perceived me, and came into the garden. - -“‘Why, my child, you are indeed an early riser,’ was her morning -salutation; ‘I expected you would sleep late after your journey; but you -look refreshed, and I am happy to see it.’ - -“‘At school, we always rose at dawn of day; from habit, I awake early, -and prefer spending the sweet morning hours in reading, rather than waste -them in slumber.’ - -“‘You are right in doing so; when I was young I was fond of reading -too, but since I have advanced in life, its busy cares have banished -literature and romance from my mind.’ - -“The old woman whom I had observed, now came to her mistress, and -announced that breakfast was ready; I followed Madame to the dining-room; -we sat down to a comfortable breakfast, served with exquisite neatness. -Monsieur joined us in a few minutes: he was yawning, and expressed -himself as feeling very dull; and, in fact, his appearance fully -corroborated the assertion. - -“After breakfast, I accompanied him to the San Carlo Opera house, where -he took me, he said, that I might see the actors rehearse, and observe -stage trick and manner. Since then I have seen tricks enough played off -upon the stage of life, independent of the drama. We need not go to the -theatre to see actors and actresses. We ascended through the basement -story, the passage obstructed by old rubbish, stage furniture, to the -green-room—a miserable looking apartment, draperied with green baize; -several actors and actresses stood in groups, conversing, in their -ordinary dress; I looked out behind the scenes; I saw on all sides the -rough boards of the theatre, and the large open spaces through which -the actors went upon the stage, and the scenes were shifted backward -and forward; everything looked unfinished and bare, it looked like the -skeleton frame of a house, and in no way realized my romantic visions of -a theatre. Several of the actors held Opera books in their hands, which -they appeared to be studying; Monsieur went around the room, bowing, and -shaking hands with all, receiving, and paying compliments in return. - -“‘Ah, my dear fellow,’ exclaimed a tall, dark-complexioned man, seizing -him by the arm, ‘when did you arrive? Glad to see you among us again. I -did not expect to see you for a year to come; thought you intended going -to Paris to perform. I was at Munich a few weeks ago, where I heard of -the brilliant success of a protegee of yours, a Mademoiselle Blanche -Ricorsi; I went several nights to see her play; a beautiful girl, she -sings divinely.’ - -“‘And here is another pupil of mine,’ said Monsieur, drawing me toward -him, ‘whom I intend shall astonish the fashionable world of Naples.’ - -“‘Ah, Mademoiselle, charmed to see you; hope you will do credit to so -distinguished a preceptor; you must sing something for me this morning; -I should like to hear your style of voice; we are now going in to -rehearsal. Come, ladies and gentlemen, are you ready? Allow me to escort -you, Mademoiselle.’ - -“With French politeness and volubility, he offered me his arm; at -that time, unacquainted with the ways and usages of society, I felt -momentarily surprised; but mechanically I accepted it, and the others -following behind, we stepped out upon the stage; it was an enormous -platform, and I felt, and looked, almost like a little child, as I walked -across its smooth boards. I wondered how I should feel when I should be -the most conspicuous object on that floor, when I should see before me -those successive walls of human faces, so terrifying to a novice,—the -eyes of all bent upon me. - -“The actors walked toward the front of the stage; part of the orchestra -was in the musicians’ box, and accompanied their voices with instrumental -music; they were rehearsing for Norma; some of the voices were sweet and -thrilling, others grated harshly on my ear. The woman who was to perform -the part of Norma, was neither young nor pretty: she did not look the -beautiful stately priestess. The man who was cast for the character of -Polelio, was as ugly a person as one need wish to see. I stood leaning -against one of the side scenes and listened to them as they ran through -the Opera. When ended, the French manager requested me to sing a song, -which he chose. I felt somewhat diffident at exhibiting my voice before -so many strangers. I wished to refuse, but a look from Monsieur Belmont, -which spoke a command, changed my purpose, and I complied. I began almost -falteringly at first, but gathering courage as I went on, I forgot those -who were listening to me, and became absorbed in the sentiment of the -song. I think I can say without egotism, that I sang well; when I had -ceased the manager approached with a surprised air: - -“‘Good heavens! Mademoiselle, you are a perfect nightingale, your high -notes are exquisite; I shall be proud to constitute you prima donna of my -troupe, when you are ready to appear; you must have applied yourself with -unceasing assiduity to have formed your voice.’ - -“‘I have been learning for six or eight years past, under the tuition of -Monsieur Belmont.’ - -“‘Your execution has indeed astonished me, in one so young; and I was -equally amazed when I heard Blanche, another pupil of my friend’s, sing -at Munich.’ - -“‘How is Blanche now? is she well? is she happy?’ - -“‘You know her, then?’ - -“‘Oh yes, we were educated at the same school.’ - -“‘I cannot answer you in regard to her happiness; but she looks -beautiful, and sings like a bird.’ - -“‘Did you ever see my other friend, who was also a pupil of Monsieur’s, -Inez Fontana?’ - -“‘A year ago, I saw her at Dresden; she left the following day to fulfil -an engagement at Berlin; she is a charming woman, handsome, dark; has a -deep, sweet, sonorous voice, but not the power or execution of yourself -or Blanche. There was a rumor afloat in town of her being about to marry -and leave the stage; it may be only report, however; I cannot vouch for -its truth.’ - -“‘It would seem very strange to me, to see my old school mate married.’ - -“‘Why, is it not natural to suppose, that a handsome young woman, with a -good reputation, should marry, and make some worthy man happy?’ - -“‘It is natural that women in private life should do so, but actresses -seldom do.’ - -“‘But when they have the opportunity, should they not embrace it?’ - -“I was about to reply, when my teacher, having finished his -confabulations with his acquaintances, approached me. - -“‘Well, my friend,’ cried he, ‘what do you think of my little pupil, I -see you have been conversing with her?’ - -“‘I am afraid Mademoiselle would think I flattered her, if I spoke my -real sentiments,’ answered the gallant Frenchman, with his hand upon his -heart. - -“Monsieur laughed; for compliments seemed to him, as they always seemed -to me, mere nonsense; things which are said without being felt, and -therefore valueless. The actors had now all left the stage; after -inviting his old friend to call upon him, Monsieur and myself returned -home. - -“I pass over the space of four months, during which time, I was occupied -in learning the part of Norma; my preceptor gave me lessons every day -in acting, in a large unoccupied room, Madame Bonni appropriated to my -use for that purpose; determined to succeed, I studied with ardor and -assiduity, until at length, I perfected myself in my part, to his and my -own complete satisfaction. - -“It was the night of my appearance: large placards announcing that fact, -with my name printed upon them in immense capitals, had been posted -in front of the theatre for several days previous; Monsieur said they -anticipated a crowded house. I had been in a state of feverish excitement -all day, which increased rather than diminished as evening drew near; -the costume of Norma I had prepared sometime before, and sent it to my -dressing-room at the theatre to await my coming. Madame Bonni, desirous -of hearing me sing, had engaged seats in one of the stage boxes for -herself and a gentleman friend. - -“‘You do not feel apprehensive of a failure, do you, Genevra?’ asked -my teacher, as he, Madame, and myself, sat conversing together in the -parlor, in the afternoon. - -“‘Not in the least, sir; I feel perfectly confident of success.’ - -“‘I am glad to hear you say so; I hope you will make a sensation; if you -feel self-possessed, you will act so, and consequently succeed. I expect -Blanche here in a few weeks to fulfil an engagement, and then you can -sing together.’ - -“‘Is Blanche coming to Naples? how glad I shall be to see her again, and -Inez, does she never come here to play?’ - -“‘Inez has often sang here since she left your school; you know it is six -years ago; but she generally prefers playing, alternately at Dresden or -Berlin, where she is extremely popular.’ - -“‘Is it true, what the manager told me, that she thought of marrying, and -leaving the stage?’ - -“‘I am not conversant with any of her matrimonial plans; you can ask -Blanche when she arrives; I presume they are each other’s confidants.’. - -“Monsieur resumed his conversation with Madame about old times, and I -went to my favorite seat in the garden, to while away the time till -six o’clock. The air was soft and balmy; the delightful sea breeze, -which blows off the coast every morning and evening, was now refreshing -the air; under that clear, tropical sky, everything looks beautiful; -the flowers seem to be of brighter hue; the turf more verdant; the -people happier, than under those cold northern climes, where the bleak -winters, and cloudy skies, seem to chill and contract men’s souls. -The kind-hearted Neapolitan lives only in the present; he enjoys the -pleasures of to-day without thinking of the future; he is willing to -share what little he has, with any fellow creature less plentifully -endowed than himself; and is it not better to live and feel thus, than to -spend one’s lifetime in amassing treasures, which, when we die, we are -obliged to leave for others to enjoy; since nothing is truer than that, -man brings nothing into the world with him, neither can he carry anything -away. Death is a market place where all men meet; the king, noble, and -peasant, are all equal, when they meet in the bosom of mother earth. As -I soliloquized, twilight gathered upon the face of things animate and -inanimate; it is charming to watch the shades of evening gray descend -upon a land like that; to see the mellow hues of dusk come slowly on, and -the bright sun disappear, till finally they fade away into indefinite -night. I should have liked to have staid and watched the sky, but -Monsieur called me; it was time to go, he said; in fact, I had actually -forgotten all about my theatrical engagement. - -“I went to my room and put on my bonnet and shawl, we got into a hack and -drove off; Madame would not come for an hour, as the curtain did not rise -till half-past seven. - -“Entering, as I had done before, through the basement, my teacher went -to the green-room, where many of the actors were already assembled, and -I to my dressing-room, passing on the way numerous princes, grand dukes, -and nobles; who, like too many of their titled brethren, could boast no -other wealth than the insignia of their order. They all stared at me as I -hurried past them; curious, I suppose, to observe the new singer. - -“I quickly arrayed myself in the long white robes, and mysterious girdle -of the priestess; scarcely had I completed my toilet, when there came a -knock at the door: I opened it, and saw the manager. - -“‘Are you ready, Mademoiselle? It is time to go on; you know the part -perfectly, do you not?’ he continued, as we approached the side scene, -where I was to enter. - -“‘Perfectly, Monsieur. Entertain no apprehensions on my account.’ - -“The gentleman smiled, bowed, released my arm, and I entered alone. I saw -an immense crowd of human faces and forms before me; the house presented -a brilliant array of fashion and beauty; the light of the chandeliers -was dazzling; far from feeling intimidated, I felt perfectly at home. I -had been fearful lest I should forget my notes, but they remained firmly -impressed on my mind; a tumult of applause shook the house as I came -forward to the foot-lights; when it had subsided I began to sing, almost -forgetful that there was any audience there, and thinking only of my -part. I acted naturally, and, therefore, pleasingly—for nature is ever -pleasing. At the conclusion of the first act, a round of applause again -greeted me; and when I went behind the scenes, Monsieur and the manager -warmly congratulated me on my self-possession, in the song Dele Conte, -a duet between Norma and Adelgisa; I was encored, and sang it twice; -my cheeks were flushed like crimson, and I felt elated at my manifest -triumph. At the conclusion of the Opera, a shower of bouquets and wreaths -were thrown at my feet; one splendid wreath of exotic flowers, which -struck my hand as it fell on the floor, was thrown from one of the stage -boxes; happening to uplift my eyes, as I was singing the last song of the -Opera, my gaze met that of a magnificent looking man, who stood quietly -contemplating me. There was something in the magnetic attraction of those -large languid black eyes, which sent a new thrill of life, a feeling -I had never experienced, rushing through my veins; what could that -inexplicable sensation mean? it was probably that man who had thrown the -wreath at my feet. One of the actors gallantly picked it up, and placed -it upon my head. Once more I heard myself applauded; delightful sound of -approval, and the curtain fell. - -“I felt exhausted from my violent exertion of voice, and sat down in -the green-room, while the manager fanned me, and the other actors -complimented me. Monsieur Belmont seemed well pleased with me and -himself, and was in his best humor. - -“‘You have made a decided hit, Mademoiselle,’ said my faithless husband -of the play; ‘although you are not yet perfect in stage trick and manner, -yet you have done wonders for the first time.’ - -“‘I am obliged to you for the compliment, Monsieur,’ I replied. - -“One of the servants of the theatre came into the room, bearing an armful -of bouquets (the beautiful wreath still remained upon my head). When -deposited in my lap, the jewels amid the flowers sparkled in the lamp -light. ‘What do you intend doing with all these flowers, petite enfant?’ -asked my guardian. - -“‘Oh, I shall carry them home to Madame Bonni, as trophies of my triumph: -are they not beautiful, Monsieur?’ - -“‘Yes, very beautiful; some of those jewels among them I should think -were valuable; but it is time to depart. Let the servant carry your -flowers to the carriage.’ - -“The manager politely attended me to the door of the carriage, and placed -me in it. - -“Madame Bonni had reached home before us, and we passed an hour in -discussing the events of the night. Good little woman! the world still -seemed fresh and new to her, although she had long since passed the -zenith of life. Even so trivial a thing as a visit to a theatre could -afford her pleasure. Happy are those, I say, who can be pleased by -trifles. What is our whole existence but a composition of trifles? - -“I went to bed, but not to sleep for many hours. When I entered my room, -and stopped before the mirror, the diamonds among the flowers of my -wreath glistened like stars. I took it from my head, and after removing -the jewels, and a beautiful ring hanging to it, I placed it in water with -my bouquets. Sleep seemed to fly my eyelids. However, for long after I -had gone to bed, the plaudits of the audience, and the languid eyes of -the gentleman in the stage box, seemed alternately to ring in my ears, -or swim before my eyes. At last, the angel Sleep kindly weighed down my -eyelids with her rosy fingers, and I forgot the opera, the gentleman, and -the bouquets. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -“I awoke in the morning, persuaded that it was all a fairy dream, -when, glancing at my toilet table, I was convinced of the reality of -my adventure, by seeing the flowers still lying where I had left them. -I examined the jewels, and found them as radiant by daylight as they -had been the night before, wondering at this unknown and munificent -gift. I laid them carefully away in my dressing-case, and descended to -the breakfast table, where I found my guardian and Madame Bonni busily -engaged in discussing the merits of my performance; both were praising -me—she with a woman’s impulse and enthusiasm, Monsieur in a man’s quiet, -reasoning way. - -“‘How do you feel after last night’s effort?’ inquired the gentleman. - -“‘Very well, sir, but rather fatigued,’ I answered. - -“‘How sweet you looked in the last act, my dear; those white lace robes -were so becoming to you; and when the flowers were thrown on the stage, -and the actor placed that superb wreath upon your head, I thought the -effect exquisite,’ observed Madame, with feminine admiration of dress. - -“‘I am glad you were pleased with me.’ - -“‘You sing again to-night, do you not, in the same opera?’ - -“‘Yes, for five nights in Norma.’ - -“‘I should like to see the morning journals, to know what they say of -you.’ - -“‘So should I,’ said Monsieur, as he rose from the table; ‘and as it is -unnecessary for you to attend rehearsal this morning, I will go out and -look in the newspapers, to see what is said about you, and when I return, -bring them to you.’ - -“He departed, and I spent the morning in practising some of my songs. At -noon he returned, and I had the satisfaction of reading a long panegyric -on my personal appearance, manner, and singing. They called me the -Austrian nightingale, a name which I was afterwards known by for many -years. That night, I played again, to a house crowded to overflowing. The -applause was as great as the evening previous, and flowers were again -thrown me, but when, as on leaving the stage, I timidly glanced upward to -the stage box, my eyes encountered, instead of the beautiful orbs which -had enchanted me the night before, an impertinent opera-glass directed -at my face. I felt disappointed, I scarce knew why; for what reason had I -to suppose that the same stranger should not be there again? - -“A month after my first appearance, I received an invitation, through -Monsieur Belmont, to sing at the private soiree of a lady of rank, the -Countess Bramonti; and although the idea of being merely a singer for the -entertainment of others, was not gratifying to my sensitive pride, still, -to oblige my kind benefactor, who had been to me a perfect saviour, I -consented to go. I had suddenly become the rage of Naples. ‘I awoke one -morning,’ as a great poet has since said, ‘and found myself famous;’ -numerous gentlemen had called on me, attracted, I suppose, by rumors of -my youth, my isolated position, and my good looks, for I can say without -vanity that, at sixteen, I possessed personal attractions. I only repeat -what others said, and one cannot remain long ignorant of that which is -universally known: we seldom appreciate the value of beauty, and the -great influence it exercises upon the minds of men, until it is on the -decline, and then we cling to and treasure its wrecks with jealous care. - -“I dressed myself for the party in a white satin robe, and placed an -artificial wreath of silver oats in my hair. I had arranged it in smooth -bandeau, the heat of the weather rendering ringlets uncomfortable. When -attired, I glanced at myself in the mirror, and feeling satisfied with -my appearance, was, consequently, in a good humor; for it is said, that, -when pleased with one’s self, one is always pleased with others. - -“Seeking for my gloves on the toilet table, my eyes rested momentarily on -the withered wreath, which I still preserved. The leaves hung lifeless; -the bright hues of the flowers had faded. Alas! poor ephemeral flowers, -is not your brief but beautiful existence a type of woman’s life also? -When young and lovely they are loved and cherished; led forth like -queens to be admired and adored, every wish anticipated, every caprice -gratified; but when Time’s rude hand has robbed these charms of their -pristine glory, lovers gradually disappear like twinkling stars at dawn -of day, and woman is left alone in the evening of her days, to think and -dream over the past. - -“The Countess Bramonti resided in a noble mansion at the court end of -the city. To the marble steps of this aristocratic abode our carriage -whirled on the night of which I speak. The moon shone brightly; and as I -stepped from it, I saw, by its light, long lines of carriages, extending -from the house each way down the street. The liveried servants in the -grand hall escorted me to the dressing room, where I left my hood and -shawl. Several beautiful women, some of them of the nobility of Naples, -were dispersed about the apartment, conversing in subdued tones, and -arranging their dress before the long mirrors. Monsieur came for me at -the door, and, leaning on his arm, I entered the grand hall of reception. -At the head of this magnificent room, upon an elevated dias, covered with -crimson velvet, stood the Countess herself, a large, finely-formed woman, -perhaps forty years of age, becomingly dressed in full, flowing robes -of scarlet velvet, and ostrich plumes waved majestically in her dark, -luxuriant hair. She received me with that urbanity and politeness which -is ever the result of good breeding, and the attribute of an elegant mind. - -“As I passed through the gay and apparently happy crowd of smiling, -lovely faces, many turned to look after me; but I felt the attention my -presence excited, was paid rather to my sudden notoriety as a cantatrice, -than to myself. Actresses, however virtuous, proud and talented they -may be, will always, from their false position, experience a feeling of -humiliation when introduced in private circles of society. They see and -feel how much more beautiful and attractive woman is when sheltered from -the rude gaze of the world, illumining only one mansion with her beauty, -and diffusing love and kindness only to her own family and friends. -Such a life is evidently, both from her mental and physical formation, -more suitable for her than the empty plaudits of a gaping mob, or that -applause of the world which exhilarates momentarily, and leaves an aching -void when gone. But we are all mere creatures of circumstance, and the -noblest souls are most frequently subjected to the stings and arrows of -outrageous fortune. - -“These thoughts glanced across my mind, as the gay waltzers whirled -past me, and the fine band stationed in the gallery poured forth its -bewitching strains of music. The Countess had descended from her -position, and mingled in the crowd, attended by several gentlemen. As she -swept past me, gracefully supporting the train of her dress upon her arm, -a tall, handsome young man, of elegant bearing, who walked at her right -hand, bent his expressive blue eyes upon me for an instant, and then -appeared to inquire of her who I was. The lady had passed me, but she -looked back over her shoulder, as if to ascertain of whom he spoke, and -then whispered something in reply. He again turned, and looked at me, not -impertinently, but observingly. Numerous persons now intervened between -me and my lady hostess, and I lost sight of her and the gentleman. After -several quadrilles and waltzes had been danced, the music paused for a -while, and the Countess resumed her seat upon the throne. My guardian -told me she wished to hear me sing. I wondered how I should sing with no -instrument to accompany me; but that difficulty was soon solved; he led -me through the crowd, and ascended the dias, where I saw a grand piano, -which had been provided for the occasion. Monsieur Belmont seated himself -at it, and I stood by his side. We sang a duet from Lucia de Lammermoor. -I could not help observing that, during the whole song, the eyes of the -gentleman who had been previously observing me, and who still stood by -the Countess, were fixed upon me steadfastly—his earnest gaze almost -annoyed me. At its conclusion, the Countess, apparently at his request, -presented him to me as Monsieur de Serval. - -“‘I have, then, the pleasure of seeing our new star in the world of song; -this is to me an unexpected pleasure,’ said the gentleman, as he inclined -his graceful form toward me. I bowed, and my eyes fell before his; no -reply was needed. - -“‘We have to-night a gay assemblage,’ he continued, ‘and yourself one -of the fairest among us. During the last week, almost nothing has been -talked of but your personal appearance and your exquisite voice; and I -trust, Mademoiselle, you will confide in my sincerity, when I say that -the reality has not disappointed my ideal expectations.’ - -“I felt that this was an extravagant compliment, yet it was so -delicately, charmingly paid, I wished to accept it as truth. From early -youth, I have ever observed physiognomy, wishing to draw conclusions -from the countenance as to the mind, and now I attentively regarded -Monsieur de Serval. He was tall and delicately formed; his complexion -was fair, like my own; his eyes were large, deep blue in color, with an -expression of pensive thoughtfulness in their silent depths. This air -of pensiveness, almost melancholy, pervaded his whole appearance. When -speaking, his face would suddenly be lit up with a smile; then this look -of joyousness would as quickly die away; it was grave, severe, and gay; -it wore all expressions, it seemed to me, all at once. He was evidently -a singular man, different to any one I had yet seen in life; there was -a nameless something about him different to any man in that brilliant -assembly of rank and fashion; yet he was not by any means the handsomest -man there. When in repose, all expression seemed to vanish from his -face, to return as quickly when he spoke again. How many indescribable -nothings go to form a perfect whole. During ten minutes’ conversation on -indifferent topics, I had made up my mind that Monsieur de Serval was a -charming person. - -“‘I perceive the company are wending their way to the banquet hall, will -you allow me to escort you?’ said he, after a moment’s pause. - -“I assented, took his arm, and we joined the gay crowd which was pouring -through the parted leaves of the folding doors, into the gallery; this -gallery was elegantly adorned with statues and paintings; at the opposite -end another folding door stood open, and we entered a superb hall. The -choice and tastefully arranged supper, ornamented with flowers and -festoons of gold and silver tinsel, together with the dazzling light -of the chandeliers, the gay dresses and jewels of the guests, their -sprightly tones of conversation, and merry laughter, all formed a bright -and exhilarating scene. - -“The Countess stood at the head of one of the long tables, chatting, -laughing to her beaux, and displaying her white teeth; while the diamond -necklace which adorned her neck, reflected a thousand prismatic rays. -The undulating motion of waving plumes, rich head dresses, and beautiful -necks and arms, alternately entranced my eager gaze. - -“‘The Countess is looking well to-night; she is considered a fine looking -woman, do you not think so?’ asked the gentleman, as he handed me a dish -of ice cream. - -“‘Yes, she is a handsome lady.’ - -“‘And no less benevolent and talented, than good looking.’ - -“‘Of the two, I would prefer being talented and benevolent without -beauty, to possessing beauty without them,’ I observed, almost -unconsciously. - -“‘Ah, indeed, that is singular; young girls generally value their -personal attractions, far above the attributes of mind.’ - -“‘I must be very different to other women, then.’ - -“‘One need only look at your face, and hear you speak, to perceive that, -Mademoiselle Genevra.’ - -“‘Different in my oddity alone, I presume.’ - -“‘No, not in your eccentricity, but in your superiority to any girl of -your age I have ever seen; but of course you know this, and I am merely -repeating a trite compliment, which you will not thank me for, as you -must have heard it a hundred times before.’ - -“‘Indeed, you mistake me, sir, the language of compliment is entirely new -to me; and in fact, I am a perfect novice in the world’s ways; this is my -first appearance in the gay world, as my preceptor not long since removed -me from the boarding-school, where I was educated, at Vienna.’ - -“‘You say you are inexperienced in the world’s ways; well, remain so if -you can, young lady, for they are not a desirable acquisition.’ - -“A cloud seemed to gather over his face, as he said this; I was confirmed -in my indefinite presentiment, that he was a singular man. We seemed to -be conspicuous objects to the gay assembly, for the eyes of hundreds -were directed at us; they were probably commenting and wondering, how -the elegant man of fashion should be so pointedly attentive to an opera -singer. I had learned a great deal within one week of active life; my -fairy dreams were rapidly fading away; the world, I saw, was not what I -had imagined it. I saw no where those benevolent hearts, and generous -actions, which I had fondly dreamed of; and here, at this very ball, how -many bitter envies, rivalries, and antipathies, were agitating the hearts -of those very people, masked on the surface by smiles. - -“‘Who is that Monsieur de Serval is with?’ I heard a voice, immediately -behind me, inquire of another. - -“‘Ah, do you not know the new opera singer? the Countess invited her here -to-night to sing; do you like her voice?’ - -“‘Yes, well enough; but do you think her beautiful?’ - -“‘No, I do not, but every one to their fancy; the men have been raving -about her angelic looks for the last week.’ - -“I looked at Monsieur de Serval; a significant smile sat upon his firm -and finely chiseled lips, and I saw by the expression of his features, -that he had also heard this little by-play. The banquet hall gradually -thinned of its occupants; the guests returned to the ball room; we also -went thither. Shortly after my teacher came for me to depart. - -“‘Permit me to see your pupil to the carriage,’ said Monsieur de Serval, -still retaining my hand upon his arm. - -“‘I am extremely obliged for the civility, Monsieur,’ answered my -teacher. He led the way down the grand staircase, through the marble -hall, into the street; it was late, past two o’clock; the moon had -disappeared, and dark masses of heavy clouds overhung the deep blue vault -of heaven. Our carriage was ordered, and while it was driving up to the -pavement, Monsieur de Serval said to me in a low tone, my teacher being a -little in advance. - -“‘I hope you will not deem me impertinent, Mademoiselle, if I ask -permission to visit you at the house where you now stay with your -preceptor.’ - -“‘I should be happy to see you, Monsieur.’ - -“‘Well then,’ said he, as he handed me into the carriage, ‘I will do -myself the honor of calling to-morrow; good evening, Mademoiselle; good -evening, Monsieur Belmont.’ - -“The musical tones of his voice rang in my ears, as the carriage drove -away. - -“‘It was a splendid affair, was it not, my child? and the Countess is a -fine noble lady?’ said Monsieur, as we rattled over the stones. - -“‘I admire her much,’ I replied. - -“‘I perceive you are becoming a star here, a perfect magnet of -attraction; every one speaks of you in praise,’ was the next observation -of this worthy man, who was somewhat slow in making discoveries of any -kind, unless some one else had previously enlightened him. - -“I made no reply to what he said; for by a train of ideas in thinking of -Monsieur de Serval, and what he had said to me, my thoughts reverted to -Blanche, and I wondered, and wished for her arrival in Naples; it was a -long time since I had seen her; she must have altered much; I wondered -if she still loved, and thought of me. My teacher had not specified any -particular day for her arrival, but merely said, he expected her in a few -days, or weeks. I longed for the society of some gentle one of my own -sex. I began to perceive the brilliance, but isolated loveliness of my -position; cut off from all social intercourse with other women; an object -of admiration in the eyes of men; of indifference, envy, or contempt to -women; I, therefore, longed to see my school-girl friend. Inez’s mind -had never so well assimilated to my own; there was too much of earth -about her; her feelings were too sensual, to suit my dreamy, abstract -speculations of an ideal love. Visions, I then had, in those fresh -young days of platonic sentiment, before my soul was rendered practical -by earthly passion; still Inez had grown a fine, handsome woman; and, -from what I had heard, notwithstanding the many temptations to which an -actress is ever exposed, had sustained an unblemished reputation. How -often have I seen individuals of both sexes, who possessed cultivated -minds, personal attractions, and elegant manners; the world considered -them irresistible; and I acknowledged, and appreciated their perfections, -yet their fascinations never reached my heart. It is a sympathetic tone -of mind which mutually attracts us; for does not every one think the -object they love beautiful? ‘Beauty is only in the gazer’s eye;’ and -the vanity of human nature induces us to believe that the object of our -preference must be charming. - -“In the afternoon of the following day, as I sat alone in the parlor, -Madame Bonni being employed in domestic affairs, and Monsieur gone out -on theatrical business; Arla, a pretty female attendant of the house, -ushered into the room Monsieur de Serval. I was sitting by the window, -dressed in a sky blue tissue; my arms and neck bare. When he entered, I -was amusing myself by singing to the canary bird; and the winged warbler -hopped about his gayly gilded prison, and almost looked amazed, probably -imagining he heard a free brother of the forest. I scarcely heard the -light step of the gentleman, and he had already taken a seat near me, ere -I looked around. I had unconsciously fallen into a reverie, and I presume -my face wore an expression of sadness, for the first observation he made -in his sweet low voice, was, - -“‘Your face wears a sadder expression by daylight, Mademoiselle, than it -did last night, at the brilliant ball.’ - -“‘That is its natural expression, Monsieur; the other was a momentary -exhilaration.’ - -“‘Ah, it is strange that one so young should ever feel sad; sadness -generally comes with experience and satiety.’ - -“‘But it seems to me that there is such a thing as living years in -advance of time, and so I feel sometimes; an indefinite presentiment of -unhappiness seems sometimes to hang over me, and so I have felt this -afternoon.’ - -“You should struggle against such feelings; they only render one morbid -to no purpose; they make us dissatisfied with the present, and skeptical -of the future; it only requires a slight effort of the will to overcome -these presentiments; if you indulge in them, Mademoiselle, they will -wither your freshness of heart, and impart to your gentle face an -expression of gloom.’ - -“A pause succeeded for a moment; Monsieur de Serval bit his lip, and -looked down at the floor; he appeared to be absent in mind and thinking. -I could not help admiring his elegant appearance, and classical face; he -was the first handsome, accomplished man, I had ever seen, secluded for -so many years within the walls of my school. The men I had seen there at -the monthly exhibitions, were generally commonplace and unattractive, -although many of them were of the nobility of Vienna. Elegance and grace -are indeed rare attributes, and almost as rarely to be met with among the -nobility, as among the commonalty. - -“How fascinating is beauty, and the winning ways some persons possess; -how frequently it conceals a depraved heart and bad disposition. Oh, -had I known at that moment of time, what I now know, how many days of -sorrowful unhappiness might I have been spared the misery of enduring; -but youth is presumptuous, self-confident, and conceited. Knowledge of -the heart is only acquired by experience, and that generally comes too -late to be of use to one; but let me not anticipate: everything has its -time. - -“Glancing around the room, Monsieur de Serval observed the canary bird, -who resting upon his perch, seemed to regard us attentively. - -“‘Is that little feathered songster yours, Mademoiselle?’ - -“‘No, Monsieur, it is Madame Bonni’s little favorite.’ - -“‘Madame Bonni,’ he repeated, abstractedly. - -“‘The lady to whom this house belongs, with whom my teacher and I board.’ - -“‘Ah, yes, I think I recollect having seen her once; she is a pleasant -woman, and companionable for you sometimes, I presume.’ - -“Since my arrival she has been extremely kind and attentive.’ - -“‘And how do you feel upon being thus suddenly brought forward, a bright -star in the etherial world of song?’ - -“‘The same as I did when a simple school girl; the change, although an -agreeable variation to school monotony, has made but little alteration in -me.’ - -“‘You are too philosophical to allow anything to disturb your equanimity -of mind, I suppose.’ - -“‘I do not know that I am a philosopher; I think the elevated tone of -mind, necessary to form such a character, is beyond my powers of thought; -but I endeavor to take the world as I find it, and quietly glide through -my lot in life.’ - -“‘A wise conclusion, Mademoiselle; the very remark shows you possess -a fine mind, and, if you follow your precepts, you will doubtless be -as happy as any human being ever is,’ he sighed, and a cloud seemed -to gather over his face. It struck me that he possessed himself a -considerable share of that morbidness of feeling, which he had a moment -before criticised and reproved in me; he seemed melancholy; perhaps, I -thought, he has been slighted in love; women invariably attribute any -sadness of look or manner, to some affair of the heart. I have grown -wiser since then, and now, with more truth and justice, trace back this -depression and gloom to an abuse of the affections, and consequently -satiety. - -“An alabaster vase of rare exotic flowers, stood upon a small chinese -table, by my side; mechanically I had plucked one of the beautiful -camilla japonicas, and was twirling it between my thumb and fore finger; -the large blue eyes of Monsieur de Serval seemed to be attentively -contemplating this pretty vegetable beauty. - -“‘I wish I were that flower, Mademoiselle,’ said he. - -“‘Why, Monsieur?’ I asked, rather astonished by the abrupt remark. - -“‘That I might experience the delight of being played with by those fairy -fingers.’ - -“‘I know of no enchantment by which I can metamorphose you into a flower; -but since I cannot turn witch, at least allow me to offer you the one -which elicited your compliment.’ - -“Playfully, I handed him the japonica; he took it with a smile, and -placed it in the button hole of the dark blue coat he wore. - -“‘I shall preserve this as a precious souvenir, Mademoiselle Genevra.’ - -“‘A very trivial keepsake.’ - -“‘Ah!’ he replied, ‘it is our recollection of the donor, not the absolute -value of a gift, which endears it to our memory.’ - -“What a just remark: how often have I treasured valueless things with -loving care, from gratitude and love to the one who had bestowed them. -Shortly after, Monsieur de Serval took his leave. ‘Adieu, Monsieur,’ said -I, as he was about leaving the room, ‘a bientot.’ - -“‘Those words, ‘a bientot,” recall “la belle France,” and old -associations. Farewell, Mademoiselle.’ His tall and graceful form -disappeared from my view; unconsciously, I fell into a chair, and mused -upon the singularity of my new acquaintance, and his many fascinations, -when Madame Bonni joined me. She appeared surprised when I told her of -the visit of Monsieur de Serval. - -“‘My dear child, he is a fascinating, attractive gentleman; but do you -know his reputation?’ - -“‘No, he is an utter stranger to me; I was introduced to him at the -Countess’ party. I know nothing of him.’ - -“Well, I must tell you, to warn you against these gay men of the world, -who are in fact not unfrequently like birds of prey; he has for many -years been considered a profligate man of fashion; he has run through -with a large fortune of his own, and draws largely upon an aunt of his, -for means to support his expensive way of living. He is said to have -squandered his money in gambling; among women of improper character; in -horse racing, and divers other fashionable vices. Knowing your virtuous -character, I take the liberty of cautioning you, Mademoiselle. You will -not be offended at me, I trust, for thus speaking?’ - -“‘On the contrary, I feel grateful for your kind admonitions; but it -seems strange to me that so interesting and graceful a gentleman can be -so depraved.’ - -“‘You may depend upon my veracity, I assure you; I know this to be a -fact; he is a man of seductive manners, and has always had the reputation -of being eminently successful among women; and I should suppose from his -gentle ways that he would be a favorite. I would not have mentioned this, -but your beauty, your isolated position in life; having no protector but -your innate sense of virtue, and Monsieur Belmont, who looks upon these -things in a philosophical point of view, and would care little what you -did; your great musical abilities, and the celebrity you are rapidly -acquiring, all these conspire to render you a conspicuous object of -pursuit to these gay men of fashion. Had I a daughter, as young, and as -beautiful as yourself, I should wish that some matron, experienced in the -world’s ways, might advise her of the snares of life; and, since you have -been here, I feel toward you almost the same affection a mother feels -for a child; you possess the sentiments and character of a lady; you -should have been born the daughter of some noble house, in which position -you might have passed your life in luxurious elegance, without being -subjected to this laborious and disagreeable profession.’ - -“I felt the truth of the good woman’s remarks, and thought upon them long -after she had left me; still I could not consent to believe _all_ that -she had said concerning Monsieur de Serval; perhaps he had been wild, -most young men are, and he was yet under thirty, perhaps extravagant; but -that he was a systematic, practised _roué_, I really could not think of -believing. The expression of his features was so sweet, so sincere; his -manner was so amiable; Madame might have been misinformed, or personal -prejudice had blinded her. Thus ever do we cheat ourselves where our -affections, or predilections are interested, we use every possible -sophism to convince ourselves, that those whom we fancy, are everything -our fond imaginations picture them as being; determinately closing our -eyes and ears against facts which speak to the contrary. - -“I had not been to church since my arrival in Naples, so entirely had my -new profession engrossed my attention; my conscience almost reproached -me for this neglect of what I had been taught to consider so important -a duty. In Naples, I perceived that religion was regarded by the higher -classes as a matter of custom and form; few, save among the humble -peasantry, went to church from sincere faith, or love of prayer; the -poor, humble worms of earth, believe with blind confidence, whatever -their priests tell them; they are generally contented and happy, amid -the humble pursuits, the lowly joys, of their restricted sphere in life; -and sometimes, when contemplating these unsophisticated children of -nature, I have wondered whether they are not after all, wiser than those -great philosophers, who propel their minds into the regions of science, -and yet ultimately discover that we can learn nothing positive of that -futurity, which no mortal has the ability to comprehend; no one can doubt -but that they are happier, if not wiser than those learned skeptics, -however humble the former, or great the latter may be; and surely -that belief, be it Protestant or Catholic, which teaches us to bear -patiently the misfortunes and ills of life; to confide and trust in that -beneficent Spirit, the creator, from the beginning of time to eternity, -of all things; that abstract and immaterial principle which we, without -understanding, can only venerate and adore. Surely that wrapt devotion, -that blind reliance, is better than skepticism, in which we have nothing -to console us in regard to futurity, and yet are satisfied with our own -conclusions. - -“Pardon me, my kind friend, these many digressions and reflections; yet I -cannot forbear making them, when I recall those old days. - -“Madame Bonni had repeatedly invited me to attend mass with her: until -now I had declined; but on the Sunday following the conclusion of my two -weeks’ engagement, which had ended with much eclat for me and profit to -my teacher, I promised to go with her to early mass, at the French church -of Sacre Cœur. - -“We rose with the dawn, and together bent our steps to the house of -prayer, which was situated perhaps half a mile from home. She attired in -her usual dress of gray silk, wearing a mantilla, thrown over her head, -without a bonnet. I in spotless white, a scarf of blue crape around my -shoulders, and a white chip pamela bonnet, then in vogue. Even at that -early hour, the streets were alive with pedestrians, summoned by the -bells to their devotions. Splendid equipages and humble calesso’s jostled -each other as they rattled along. Ladies, attended by their footmen, -carrying their prayer books, passed the poor sempstress; the lady’s maid; -the Neapolitan peasant, with her madonna-like coiffure, and classic face; -the pretty attendants of shops, hurrying to their devotions before they -began the business of the day; the gay, happy-looking peasant beaux, -dressed in their holiday clothes, sauntered along; and, in contrast to -them, the dignified, grave Italian noble, glided past with quick and -quiet pace. - -“The enormous leaves of the bronze-gilt doors of the church were opened -wide, and a crowd of devotees were entering the edifice, as we also -went in. We walked up the great middle aisle, where, kneeling upon its -polished marble surface, were numerous worshippers, devoutly telling -their beads, and murmuring their prayers in whispered tones. Madame Bonni -walked to the foot of the sanctuary, and kneeling before it, repeated -her rosary. The bright sunlight began to cast a thousand different rays -through the stained glass of the gothic windows. Leaning against one -of the corinthian pillars of the centre aisle, I looked around; all was -still as the chamber of death; the sun had not yet fully illumined the -beautiful church; the distant corners, and niches, wherein statues were -placed, remained in dim twilight; even the sanctuary would not have been -clearly distinguishable, had it not been lighted by an alabaster lamp, -suspended over the altar. The priests had not yet made their appearance, -nor had the choir began to sing. - -“Near me, inlaid upon the wall, was an oblong marble tablet; and engraved -upon it, I read the epitaph of one of the deceased cardinals of the -church. I do not know why, but the sight of that tablet, the associations -of time and place, the early hour of day, the solitude and silence of -the church, brought home more vividly to my mind than I had ever felt -before—the thought of death. I had seen grave stones and epitaphs a -hundred times before, but had always glanced at them carelessly, without -fully realizing that they were actually the abodes of the dead; of -beings who, when living, had been animated with the same hopes, fears, -and passions as myself; but who now slumbered on unheeded and unheeding. -Yet why should we mourn for the dead, even for those we most love and -cherish? to die in this life, is only to begin a new existence in -some other state of being; and since we cannot penetrate beyond that -dark abyss, the boundary of life, we must look forward with hope, and -confidently trust in our Creator. - -“I had stood facing the sanctuary, and absently gazing upon it, when the -door of the vestry opened, and the train of priests and boys entered; -at the same moment the music began. In looking at the splendid robes -which the priest wore, as the representative of Christ, I could not help -recalling to mind the manner of _His_ life, who, when he was upon earth, -had not where to lay his head. His holiness, his self-denial, his purely -spiritual life, so poorly exemplified by the modern Italian priesthood; -the most miserable among whom fares sumptuously every day, compared to -the life his Master led. - -“The mournful chant of the officiating priest re-echoed from -vaulted-ceiling to paved aisles, filling the empty space with the sad -sound; and alternately the thrilling tones of the voices in the choir, -sang the hymns of the service. Madame Bonni, in an attitude of wrapt -devotion, her head bowed down, still knelt at the sanctuary, and I at -the base of the pillar. A magnificent painting of the crucifixion, hung -over the altar; and upon the inanimate image of the Divine sufferer, -I fixed my eyes. During the service, the incense had been offered -before the altar; the priest and boys had disappeared, bearing with -them the consecrated host; and the last sweet cadences of the voices in -the gallery were hushed, ere I aroused myself from my reverie. There -was something beautifully solemn about that mass, celebrated at dawn; -the classic interior of the church, built in the grecian style; its -silence, the dim twilight which reigned, the sweet voices, concealed -from view by the crimson silk curtains of the gallery, the elegant robes -of the officiating priests and their attendants, and the grateful odor -of frankincense and myrrh, with which the altar was perfumed, together -formed a scene of impressive solemnity. - -“One by one, the people stole away; we also departed. It was now bright -day: two hours had elapsed during mass. Madame Bonni proposed, before -returning home, to pay a visit to the convent of Sacre Cœur, to which the -church belonged. I willingly assented, and accompanied her. - -“It was an antique mass of brick, of almost shapeless form; so many -different additions had at various times been made to the original -edifice. The little iron-grated window, set in the middle of the strong, -iron-barred gate, was opened by a small, thin-faced nun. She looked at -us with a quick sharp glance; after Madame had spoken to her a moment, -she turned away within the portal, leaving the window open, through -which I was enabled to see the interior. It was a small anti-chamber, -furnished with nothing, save the floor, the four walls, and three heavy -oaken chairs, chained to the wall. After several questions had been asked -by another nun, and responded to by the first, two or three bells rung, -and other mysterious preliminaries gone through with, our nun devoutly -crossed herself, and admitted us. Madame asked for the Lady Superior; -we were conducted through several long narrow passages, to the convent -parlor, where the nun left us, and went to summon her Superior. The room -was small and dark, very plainly furnished with a waxed floor of dark -wood, pictures of the saints on the walls, and an enormous crucifix in -one corner. The chairs were chained to the walls, as in the anti-chamber; -everything wore an air of monastic serenity. I heard the rustling of -silk, and looking round, saw a tall, slender woman, thin, almost to -attenuation. She wore the sombre dress of the order; the expression of -her features was at once benevolent and austere; her eyes were blue, -quiet, and grave; her face was of an oval form, and full; there was at -once, shrewdness, benevolence, and sternness, all expressed and impressed -upon that face. - -“She greeted Madame Bonni with cordiality; me, with politeness; in her -right hand she carried a rosary of ivory beads, which, from time to time, -she passed mechanically through her small white hands. Having seated -herself upon a chair, she quietly regarded us. - -“‘We have called thus early, Mother Cecilia,’ began Madame, in -extenuation of our unseasonable visit, ‘that we might obtain of you a -permit to go through the convent on Wednesday next, my young friend being -desirous of seeing it.’ - -“‘Ah!’ said she, fixing her eyes upon me, ‘is she a stranger in Naples?’ - -“‘She has been here but a short time.’ - -“The holy mother would probably have been horrified, had she known I -was an actress. Ah, blind bigotry of party faith, of sectarianism; ye, -who look at the occupation, the condition in life, without regarding -the honesty, the character, the heart; the mind’s the standard of the -man or woman, and not the accidental contingencies of fortuitous or -disadvantageous circumstances. - -“I will with pleasure give you a permit, and you need not apologise -for the earliness of the hour, as we have long since begun the duties -of the day; the sisters attend mass at three o’clock, in the chapel of -the convent,’ she continued, still looking at me. ‘This young girl so -forcibly reminds me of one of my beloved ones, who is now, I hope, in a -state of beatitude, among the blessed around the throne of God. So great -a resemblance do you bear to her, I almost thought when I entered, that -it was herself revisiting earth; may I ask your name, Mademoiselle?’ - -“‘Genevra Sfonza.’ - -“‘Genevra,’ she absently repeated, ‘what a singular coincidence; it was -under that name she took the veil and left the world; yes, she was a holy -child; one of the few pure spirits which seem to emanate immediately from -the bosom of our Heavenly Father: may she rest in peace, and her soul be -made happy in the true faith.’ - -“She crossed herself; her lips moved: perhaps she murmured a prayer for -her favorite. - -“‘Who was the young lady of whom you spoke, mother Cecilia?’ inquired -Madame Bonni. - -“‘She was Signorina Lavona Carraggi, daughter of Prince Carraggi, one of -the oldest and noblest families in Naples: from early infancy she was -ever pious, very attentive to her devotional exercises, and absented -herself, as much as her high station would permit, from the vanities -of the world: at sixteen, her father, yielding to her solicitations, -consented she should take the white veil, which she did, but died of -consumption within the first year of her noviciate; but although she -is gone from us for ever, her memory still lives in the hearts of the -sisterhood, by whom she was tenderly beloved, and with justice, too, for -surely she was an admirable being.’ - -“‘I heard that it was some disappointment in an affair of the heart, -which induced the Lady Lavona to leave the world,’ observed Madame Bonni. - -“‘Ah, no!’ replied the Abbess, with a pious shudder at the frightful -imputation upon the character of her deceased favorite; ‘that is mere -report; she left the world for the solitude of the cloister, because she -knew that its vanities and frivolities are incompatible with the practice -of true religion, and she wished to become worthy of being the bride of -Christ.’ - -“‘What a mistaken notion of religion,’ thought I, as I listened; -‘surely, the simple fact that the beneficent Creator has placed us here, -sufficiently demonstrates that the world of society is our proper sphere -of action, and not the seclusion and austerities of a convent.’ - -“‘How long has the young lady been dead?’ asked Madame. - -“‘It is now a year ago: she died on the Eve of the Annunciation, at -midnight; while she was expiring in her cell, the nuns were celebrating -midnight mass in the chapel; suddenly her apparition appeared unto them, -standing in their midst, and then as suddenly vanished away; by this -miracle they knew that her spirit had departed, and it would seem as if, -lingering on the verge of eternity, it came back to take a last farewell -of that sisterhood by whom she was so much beloved. Upon going to her -cell, I found her quite dead, sustained in the arms of the nun who nursed -her. She is buried in the garden of the convent, and on reception days -numerous visitors come to see her grave.’ - -“My faith was not of sufficient india-rubber-like expansion to embrace -the miraculous apparition; but I could easily understand and appreciate -the fact, that the young lady had been beautiful and lovely, and that her -death was regretted by those who knew and loved her. - -“After a few remarks, mutually exchanged, upon indifferent topics, the -Superior wrote a permit for Wednesday, and we rose to go. At parting, she -pressed my hand in hers, and again exclaimed, - -“‘Ah! what resemblance; I should think it was herself: farewell, my -daughter, and if, in after years, the world and its frivolities satiate -and disgust you,—if your soul becomes weary with the cares of life,—come -then to the peaceful shade of the cloister; here you will find quiet and -repose.’ - -“‘I am too young, yet, to have become tired of a world which I am only -beginning to see.’ - -“‘So thought I, at your age; not so do I regard it now; and I look back -with regret upon those years spent in idle pleasures, which I should have -dedicated to the service of God. Few young people possess sufficient -self-denial to practice the austerities of religion. Lady Lavona was a -brilliant exception: she left a high station, the pomp and glitter of -nobility, to bear her cross and follow her Saviour.’ - -“There was something solemn and impressive in the look and manner of the -Abbess, as she spoke these grave words of advice; her face, marble-like -when in repose, lit up when she spoke, like those beautiful Chinese -vases, which only show the flowers painted upon the exterior when filled -with water within. - -“‘Good morning, mother Cecilia.’ - -“‘Farewell, daughter: the peace of God be with you.’ The attendant nun -conducted us back the way we came, the heavy portal opened and shut -behind us, and we directed our steps homeward. - -“The appearance and conversation of the Superior made a deep impression -on my mind. All the way home I thought of what she had said about the -lady whom I resembled; her description of her loveliness and purity of -life had interested me, still I had no desire to emulate her example -of sanctity, and become a nun; I have always thought the life of a -religieuse a useless one; to be pure, virtuous, and truly religious, -it is not necessary to seclude oneself from society within a convent’s -walls, perform penance and say prayers a hundred times a day; the duties -of a sincere, upright and active life, are the best offerings we can make -our Almighty Father, and, I feel confident, the most acceptable him. - -“Monsieur Belmont had breakfasted and gone out, when we reached home; we -took ours; then Madame left me to attend to her domestic affairs, and I -went to my room to practice my part in a new opera. I had been engaged -thus two or three hours, when, looking out of my window, I saw a calesso -drive up and stop before the door; my teacher got out, accompanied by a -female, dressed in white, and enveloped in an enormous black lace veil. I -caught a glimpse of her tiny feet as she lightly tripped out. Something -familiar struck my memory as I glanced at that veiled form, an indefinite -association of something or some one, I could not tell which, or what. -They quickly entered the house, and I continued my musical studies, -imagining it was some visitor of Madame’s, when Arla requested me to -come to the parlor, a lady wished to see me. Many gentlemen had visited -me since my arrival in Naples, but possessing not a single female -acquaintance in the city, I puzzled myself in conjecture. - -“Wondering who it could be, I descended the stairs; the sound of merry -voices and laughter greeted my ears from the parlour: on entering it, I -saw a group of three, standing in the middle of the room, their backs -toward me. The lady I had seen from the window, was playfully arranging -upon Monsieur’s broad shoulders her large lace veil; my guardian was -gayly conversing, while Madame stood by talking and laughing with Italian -enthusiasm. They formed a happy-looking, graceful trio. I paused a moment -to look at them. The lady, happening to turn her head, saw me, uttered -an exclamation of surprise, dropped the veil, and we rushed into each -other’s arms;—it was Blanche! - -“‘Ah!’ cried Monsieur, still trembling with laughter, from some unknown -cause, ‘now I know Genevra will be happy; she has been wishing and -longing for your arrival. Are you not mutually glad to see each other?’ - -“‘Ah, yes,’ answered Blanche, as she raised her head from my shoulder, -and uplifted her beautiful dewy eyes to mine. ‘Genevra knows as well, -better than I can tell her, how very happy I am at seeing her once more, -after so many years of separation.’ - -“I said nothing myself, for it has ever been my nature to say the least -when I feel most. And now, after the first congratulations were over, I -looked at Blanche, to see what effect Time had wrought on her. She had -grown much taller, and her form was rounder in its voluptuous beautiful -outlines; her face still preserved its old expression of infantile -innocence and sweetness, yet there was something altered about it: -and, on attentively criticizing that fair face, I perceived a slight -expression of scorn in the almost imperceptible curl of the delicate -upper lip, and a melancholy languor, bordering on gloom, in the blue -depths of those large eyes. Had some disappointment crossed her, or -was she already weary of the world’s applause? She was a very handsome -woman,—no wonder she should be admired. - -“Her laugh was the same as ever; her merry, child-like laugh; how often -had that joyous sound amused me amid the monotony of school discipline! - -“Oh, my beloved friend! my beautiful Blanche! years have rolled their -dark mists on my soul since that re-union. I have lived to weep over thy -solitary grave: thy only mourner the hoarse resounding waves of the sea. -That graceful form has long ago been food for worms: those lovely eyes -glazed in death, and those long ringlets rotted to decay;—yet, whenever -I recall thy gentleness, thy winning ways, and lofty soul, tears will -start from their briny bed, to consecrate with grief thy sweet memory. -Yes, if there be ‘a land of pure delight’ beyond this terrestrial sphere, -I feel assured thy blest shade has entered beatitude. - -“We went up stairs together to my room, and there she gave me a -description of the principal events in her life since leaving Vienna. She -was too sincerely unaffected and devoid of egotism to entertain me with -her own conquests or matrimonial offers; but she spoke with tenderness -of Inez; her well maintained popularity; her good temper; her still -cherished fondness for myself; and, lastly, her approaching marriage with -a wealthy merchant of Berlin, and consequent withdrawal from the stage. - -“‘It is really true, then,’ I remarked, ‘that she is to be married. -I heard so, but did not know how true the report might be. And you, -Blanche, have you any idea of following her example?’ - -“A rose-tint, like the delicate hue of one of ocean’s shells, lingered -for an instant on the snowy cheek of Blanche. It quickly disappeared, and -she gravely, I thought, almost sorrowfully, replied: - -“‘My dear Genevra, I seldom bestow a thought on matrimony. To say that I -_never_ think of marrying, would be an absurdity. All women _must_ think -sometimes of that which is most certainly their manifest destiny; but -my thoughts dwell but seldom on that subject. Single life presents no -terrors to me: and you know actresses scarcely ever have an opportunity -of marrying any save a professional character. Inez is an extraordinary -instance of virtue and beauty being rewarded; and most fortunate is -she in having obtained so generous and fine a gentleman for her future -husband.’ - -“‘Monsieur Belmont told me your beauty and your voice has set all Naples -wild,’ she continued. ‘Is it so, dear? But I need not ask; the journals -informed me of that fact. And does the applause that greets you in public -fully satisfy your heart? Do you never come home to the solitude of your -own room, from these grand triumphs, and there, safe from the observation -of others, sit and dream, and long for something, you scarce can divine -what yourself; and _then_, do you not feel how brilliant, yet how -isolated, are the lives we actresses lead? Have you never felt so?’ - -“‘Often,’ I replied, staring at her in amazement, at the sympathy of mind -there evidently existed between us. ‘Yes, I have often felt so, although -I am as yet on the outset of my new career. But I imagined I alone had -this misanthropy;—I little thought you shared it; but let us banish all -these gloomy reflections, which can do no good, and only tend to sadden -us, and speak of something more cheerful; and now I want to ask about -Munich, as I never was there. What sort of town is it?’ - -“‘A very beautiful, delightful place, to those who fancy it. It contains -many very splendid buildings, fine gardens, and much good society. I was -so constantly engaged in my profession, however, I scarcely noticed what -it was; and in truth, since I left you I have been in so many places, -that they seem all alike to me, and one town is as agreeable as another.’ - -“Here our conversation for the moment was suspended, and Blanche, at our -hostess’ request, went to take some refreshments after her journey, but -I plainly perceived, both from the words and looks of my friend, that -there was something wrong at heart; either the gay world had wearied her, -or else some disappointed or clandestine love was gnawing at her heart. -Which it was, I could not decide; so I trusted to events to develope this -mystery. - -“Blanche became completely domesticated with us, and we were to each -other as sisters; yet she did not confide to me the cause of this -concealed sadness. In the meantime, Monsieur de Serval became a regular -visiter of mine. I presented him to Blanche,—he seemed pleased with -her, yet I perceived that, although he treated her with respectful -admiration, his eyes never rested on her with the same expression of -love and tenderness as they always did when wandering after me. They say -‘that love begets love.’ To a certain extent I think the saying true; -and perhaps the eager admiration of Monsieur de Serval quickened my -perception of his merits, and gave him additional interest in my eyes. -Be that as it may, my feelings had not as yet shaped themselves into -a downright sentiment of love. They were as yet in embryo, quiescent -friendship, when a strange and unexpected event turned the current of my -destiny. - -“I was sitting alone in the little parlor before mentioned. Blanche had -a headache, and was in her own room. Monsieur was away somewhere,—he -generally spent his evenings out; and Madame Bonni had left the -apartment. I sat alone: it was now midsummer; the weather was extremely -hot; but I recollect on the evening of which I speak, a brisk north -breeze had sprung up at twilight, and blown steadily off the shore for -several hours, rendering the air quite chill and cool. The wind sighed -drearily around the little cottage, and seemed to dwell momentarily in -the tall poplar trees of the garden. - -“One wax candle, from its silver candelabra, shed a subdued light -around, in its immediate vicinity, leaving the rest of the room in -shadow, and the full moon, from a window opposite me, darted long streaks -of silver rays along the floor; my book had fallen from my hand, being -unable to read by the feeble light, and with my hands folded together in -my lap, I was lost in contemplation, when a knock came at the door, and -without waiting for permission, it was opened, and Monsieur de Serval -entered. He did not look as well as usual, nor was his toilette as -carefully made. He scarcely returned my salutation, and drawing a chair -near me, seated himself in it, and leaning back, with his small right -hand, pushed back from his forehead the glossy waves of his flaxen hair. - -“I spoke of several things: the opera, political debates, fashionable -literature; he answered abstractedly in monosyllables, and then relapsed -into silence. Suddenly starting from his chair, he began pacing the room -with rapid strides; his face looked flushed and strange. I had always -felt toward him an indefinite fear, arising probably from the magnetic -influence of his stern temper, and now the same sensation came creeping -over me as I sat, and wonderingly gazed upon the singular behaviour of -my visiter. Suddenly pausing in his walk, he came toward me, and again -seated himself at my side. He grasped both my hands in his, and bent the -stern gaze of his lustrous eyes on mine. I now began to apprehend what -was coming, and to tremble. - -“‘Genevra,’ said he, in the low, deep tone of impassioned feeling, —and -as he said this, he took both my hands in his left hand, and with the -other he played with the curls of my hair—‘Genevra, I am about leaving -town, perhaps for some months; perhaps from contingency or fatality I -may never return to Parthenope. I have come to say farewell. I could, I -think, almost feel happy at going, could I for a moment suppose that a -heart so pure as yours, would cherish towards a forlorn, unhappy being -like myself a single sentiment of kindness or regret. Say, Mademoiselle, -may I hope I shall not be forgotten?’ - -“He grasped my hands fiercely as he said this, and looked closely in -my face. I felt frightened, and scarcely knew what to say. At last I -stammered out,— - -“‘You have my best wishes, Monsieur, for your future happiness.’ - -“‘Best wishes! Is that all? Yes, I see I was a fool to suppose—’ He -stopped abruptly, and bending down his stately head to a level with my -eyes, riveted his gaze on mine. I could feel his warm breath hotly fan -my cheek, and the beams of moonlight showed his broad full chest as it -rose and fell with contending passions. Nearer and nearer did he draw me -to him, till his head sank upon my shoulder, his beautiful mouth sought -mine, and with his arms tightly clasped around my waist, I felt myself -irresistibly drawn into an embrace, which, by a strange paralyzation of -all power of will, I had no strength to avoid. He drew me forcibly off -my chair upon his lap, and there imprinted on my lips a hundred kisses -before I could summon strength and determination to break away. I forced -myself from his iron grasp and ran to the other side of the room. He -followed me, his beautiful face distorted by passion, and falling on his -knees, again seized my hands in his, and exclaimed,—‘Pardon me—oh! pardon -me, beautiful Genevra! but I love you with a wild, intense passion. -Forgive me if I have offended your pride or modesty. Take pity on me, -Genevra, and encourage me to hope that my love may meet with a return.’ - -“‘Monsieur de Serval!’ I cried, at length recovering breath to speak, -‘your conduct is incomprehensible, inexplicable:—what _can_ you mean -by it? Is it gentlemanly—is it honorable, thus wantonly to insult the -modesty and wound the pride of a defenceless girl?’ - -“‘By Jupiter, you misconstrue me!” he vehemently exclaimed; and starting -to his feet, he again traversed the room with rapid strides. ‘Has my -bearing toward you ever been anything save respectful?’ - -“‘Does not this look marvellously like insulting familiarity?’ I -indignantly demanded. - -“‘I forgot myself for a moment. And are you so remorseless as to refuse -forgiveness for an unintentional fault? Yes, here in this very room, bear -me witness, all ye gods and goddesses, all ye saints and angels:—I do -swear I love you, and you alone. With a crazy passion have I adored since -our first meeting at the countess’;—till now I have stifled it, concealed -it as much as possible from your observation; but now, on the eve of -departure from Naples, I tell you how I love you, and honorably offer -you my heart and hand in marriage. If you will accept me, I will return; -otherwise, I presume, I never shall.’ - -“I had sunk into a chair, overpowered by this strange scene. Again, as if -impelled by some invisible influence, he came and put his arms around my -waist, and kissed me as before. This time, after what he had just said, I -did not resist him. - -“‘I have sometimes thought,’ he whispered, ‘from the expression of your -eyes, that you loved me. Say, dearest, is it so? Put your beautiful arms -around my neck, and say, ‘Dear Rinaldo, I love thee!’ - -“Unconscious, almost stupefied, I mechanically complied, and whispered -after him, ‘Dear Rinaldo, I love thee!’ Then he remained motionless for -some minutes, seeming to have lost all recollection in a delirium of -sense, his arms tightly locked around my waist, his head resting in my -lap. His wild, impassioned manner had in some degree magnetized, and -inspired my naturally cold temperament with something like a return of -the volcano-like passion which animated him. - -“‘Monsieur de Serval,’ I said, finding he made no effort to rise, -‘recollect yourself, I beg of you. Come, seat yourself here on the sofa, -and let us talk quietly. Why should you rage and storm thus? What is it -disquiets you? You say you love me; but surely love is a gentle feeling. -Where is the necessity of these tempestuous emotions? These bursts of -passion alarm me. Be composed, and tell me why you are miserable and -unhappy, as you just said you were. Explain your grief; and at least let -me endeavor to console you.’ - -“My quiet manner served to soothe him. He rose from his knees, and sat -reclining on the sofa, still holding my hands in his, while I wiped the -perspiration from his agitated countenance. I was not exactly in love -with him then, but my disposition always prompted me to compassionate the -sorrowful. He appeared to be unhappy, and I would have given much to have -known, shared, and alleviated his sorrow. - -“‘You never heard, I suppose,’ he began, ‘anything of my private history?’ - -“‘No,’ I hesitatingly replied, ‘I never did.’ - -“‘You are not used to equivocating; I see that, Genevra. I am certain -that you _have_ heard from envious tongues, every thing that is bad -concerning me,—that I am a _roué_; a gambler; a worthless, reckless man -of fashion. My faults I do not pretend to conceal. Not to acknowledge an -error, is only worthy of a knave or a fool. I trust I am not either. Sit -nearer me;—let me hold your hand and see my eyes riding on the balls of -yours. Now I will begin. I will go back in imagination—thank God I am not -obliged to do it in reality—to childhood.’ - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -“My father was descended from an ancient and noble family; one of the -most aristocratic in France. Our family chateau was in Normandy; there -we spent the principal part of the year, with the exception of visits to -Paris at distant intervals of time. - -“Our chateau was beautifully and romantically situated on a gentle -plain. From its fine grounds I have often watched the sun decline behind -the distant mountains, which bordered on the east our valley-home; on -the west a gentle river glided by: along its flowery banks, oft, when -a child, have I, my two brothers, and little sister, played. I shall -never see its quiet waters more,—nor would I: they would revive too many -painful associations. Yet sometimes in fancy I transport myself back to -its loved shores; and again I see Francois, Pierre, myself, and Lelia, -all animated by the same childish love of fun, playing hide and seek, or -running races. - -“Francois was the eldest, myself next, then Pierre, then our sweet -sister Lelia. My beloved mother, to whose memory I have ever retained, -through all my dissipations and frivolities, so great a veneration, was -in declining health. She was a tall, beautiful blonde; her gentle face -was the index to her soul,—all purity, sweetness and sincerity; were I -to live a thousand years, never could I forget my mother’s amiability, -her true nobility of soul. I was her favorite child, her ‘dear Rinaldo.’ -At my birth, in a fit of romantic admiration of the fabulous Rinaldo, -of Italian story, she named me after him, and with woman’s romance, -fondly pictured to herself the great deeds I should one day perform. In -emulation of this poetical demi-god, what would not children become were -they to realize their parents’ wishes and expectations. - -“My father and mother lived together in the greatest love and unanimity -of feeling, until the advent of a governess, when Lelia was eight years -old, to superintend her education. This woman, as sly and insinuating, as -she was bold and unprincipled, soon sowed the seeds of contention between -my parents, and alienated from the forsaken wife the lawful affections of -her husband. She was not handsome, but she succeeded by art, in acquiring -over my father’s mind an almost unlimited control. He forsook my mother’s -society, and surrendered himself to the fatal influence of Mademoiselle -Desportes. My mother was left to linger on and die alone, in her own -solitary apartments of the chateau. - -“Little Lelia became fonder of her governess than of her mother, and -preferred at all times being with Mademoiselle, than with the desolate -and despairing Madame de Serval. Francois and Pierre, seduced by presents -and unlimited indulgence, grew to love her. I alone, of the whole family, -remained firm in my allegiance to my best parent. I alone spent hour -after hour, day after day, by her lone bedside, endeavoring to soothe -the saddened spirit, and calm its approach to eternity. My unfailing -devotion to her, gained me the bitter enmity of our governess; but I -defied and despised her malice. My father from that time henceforward, -till his death, regarded me with an eye of distrust; but for that too I -did not care: I felt convinced that he had forfeited all claim to the -title of husband or father; that he had debased himself by a vulgar, -dishonorable connection; disgraceful alike to himself and the ancient -name he bore. I owed my first duty to the deserted, not to the deserter; -I saw that this disgrace to her sex, aimed at my father’s hand; that she -wished to establish herself firmly in a high position; who the man was -mattered little to her, so long as he possessed rank and wealth; and, -unfortunately, for my opinion of women, I have seen but too many others -like unto her. My mother was a stumbling block to her ambition; I saw -all the manœuvring that was constantly going on through this woman’s -influence; yet what could I do, a young boy, without money or influence -in society? If a man chooses to turn against his own wife, the mother of -his children; abuse, neglect her, and take instead, a bad, intriguing -woman, as confidant and companion, what can the world say or do? nothing, -it is their own affair: every one says, let them settle it between them: -the public have nothing to do with family quarrels. - -“Thus defenceless and unprotected, her parents dead, her relations -far away, my mother became a victim to this vile creature. Her health -declined with amazing rapidity during the first year of this woman’s -arrival; her hectic cough increased daily; her pale and hollow cheeks, -glassy eyes, and shrunken form, like a scroll of shriveled parchment, -showed the ravages of disease and gloom, preying upon both mind and body. -A little incident first gave me a horrid suspicion of the secret cause of -this decay. - -“A physician from the village, and a mysterious looking monk from a -neighboring convent, regularly visited my mother twice a week; the one to -attend to her spiritual welfare, the other to administer to her wreck of -mortal frame. Father Ignatius I never liked; no love was lost between -us; my sentiments were freely returned; his step, gliding and noiseless; -his large eyes, always downcast with mock humility, and hands clasped -upon his breast, always inspired me with a presentiment of the vicinage -of some evil genius. Mystery, I have observed, is generally the cloak -of ignorant or knavish minds; in this case it was the latter. I felt -relieved when I saw his draperied form leave the chateau, as if some evil -influence had been withdrawn. Notwithstanding my dislike, he seemed to be -a favorite of my mother’s, and to please her I forbore saying any thing -to his disparagement. His conversation seemed to amuse and momentarily -enliven her; his voice was soft and low, and manner insinuating and -jesuitical. I said nothing against him to her or any one else, though -secretly distrustful, for I would not have added to her gloom, around -whose soul were gathering fast the shadows of the tomb. - -“I was retiring to my mother’s room one evening at dusk, when as I -neared the anti-chamber, I heard voices within conversing, and my own -name mentioned; pausing at the door, and concealed by its deep shadow, I -listened; the speakers were Doctor Theodori, and Father Ignatius; they -appeared to have met accidentally. - -“‘Well, Doctor,’ was the jocose salutation of Ignatius, ‘how fares thy -patient?’ - -“‘And may I not ask the same question of thee, oh, physician of the -soul?’ was the laughing reply of the fat, shrewd-looking Theodori. - -“‘Between us two,’ said the monk, glancing round the anti-chamber, as if -to observe they were free from notice; the dusk of twilight far advanced, -reigned, and they could not see me; ‘between us, I say, she is failing -fast: the last few months have wrought a great change.’ - -“‘I plainly perceive it,’ was the cool reply of his worthy colleague; -‘she will not cumber the earth long, nor be in the way of Monsieur and -Mademoiselle Desportes.’ - -“‘You should be careful not to give the powders too often,—their effect -will excite suspicion,’ was the next remark of the holy father. - -“‘Trust me, I know what I am doing; this is not the first case of the -kind I have managed; there will be no outward sign except the usual -appearance of disease; what has been promised you as reward, may I ask?’ - -“‘His influence at Rome with the college of cardinals, to obtain me -the position of the nuncio to the court of Vienna, and yours, _worthy_ -Theodori?’ - -“‘When all is over, I shall accompany the naval expedition to Algiers; -in truth I scarcely feel safe in this affair; I sometimes catch myself -feeling my head, to ascertain if that important member still performs its -functions.’ - -“‘No matter, ejaculated the man of prayer, penance and fasting, so long -as we are rewarded for our services, and get safe out of the country, -which I am very desirous of leaving. But does not his infatuation appear -strange to you?—to me it is a riddle.’ - -“‘A problem, in my opinion, which I could never solve; but these sly -women do sometimes, you know, obtain great influence; he is weak and -infatuated; but men have been fooled before his time, and will be so for -ages yet unborn.’ - -“‘How long do you think she will live?’ asked the monk; and he drew his -cowl over his dark visage, and took a step forward toward the door, where -I stood concealed. - -“‘Not longer than three months, if I am anything of a physician.’ They -both laughed, as two fiends may be supposed to laugh over a captured -soul, and withdrew through a side door, leading to my father’s part of -the mansion. - -“The last echo of their footsteps died upon my ear, ere I tremblingly -emerged from my concealment; pale as a ghost from the tomb, and quivering -like an aspen, I comprehended perfectly well that some dark plot was -hatching to expedite my mother’s mortal doom. I tried to think of some -means to counter-work this devilish intention; but at that time almost -a child, my mind was not fertile in expedients, and even had I equaled -Mephistopheles at planning, what is the use of invention without the -power to execute. I determined to watch and endeavor to detect any -attempt this triumvirate of wickedness should make upon her life. I -childishly supposed I should _see_ something to expose; I did not know -their secret wiles, though I watched constantly, and was always with my -mother; yet I saw no powders given, nothing visible indicated _their_ -secret malice, and _her_ onward progress to the grave. - -“Mademoiselle Desportes, with cunning hypocrisy, came often with -professions of regard, to see Madame de Serval. Could I have had my way, -I would have kicked her out the room; but perhaps she chose the better -part, in treating with contempt so unworthy a creature; for that pure -soul, which was all harmony and love, could surely feel no rivalry with -one so immeasurably beneath her. - -“My father seldom came to our apartment. I should have thought shame -would have deterred him from brazenly insulting the deserted wife with -his presence. I forgot that the man who could act thus, would of -necessity be incapable of shame. Thus lingered for three months longer my -gentle, lovely mother, and then she died, devoutly hoping to be reunited -to her loved ones in a future state of being. She died at midnight; we, -her children, and the nurse, her only attendants; it was in the autumn -time, and the wind blew in fitful gusts around the isolated chateau; the -mournful sound, as the blast rose and fell, and whistled through the -forest trees, and through the cracks and crevices of the wainscotting, -seemed in harmony with the sad departing soul. - -“She sat upright in bed, supported by pillows: her hands convulsively -clasped on her sunken chest, her sad blue eyes fixed on vacancy, as if -seeking to penetrate the impenetrable mysteries of eternity; her long -hair, escaped from its confinement, strayed wildly around her shoulders: -thus she sat, motionless and silent, for several hours, though not -speechless; she retained her voice and senses to the last. - -“Little Lelia sat on the bed by my mother’s side, and with tearful -eyes gazed wonderingly on her parent; my brothers and I stood by the -bedside; I, speechless, tearless, from intense grief: they, sobbing -in loud lamentation; and the old nurse sat in the chimney corner, an -uninterested, yet sympathizing spectator of the death bed. My father had -made an excuse of going on a hunting party, some days previous, to avoid -witnessing his wife’s last sufferings; and his wicked favorite had shut -herself in her own rooms: we, therefore, were the sole attendants. And -the priest and his delightful friend had gone, I know not where—probably -departed for their respective places of destination—apprehensive of -discovery. - -“The old brass clock in the anti-chamber struck the midnight hour, and -its hoarse, reverberating tone, had scarcely ceased, ere Madame de Serval -aroused herself from her stupor; decaying life appeared to resuscitate, -momentarily, in that attenuated form, like the spasmodic flicker of a -lamp, whose flame is about to be extinguished. She extended her arms, -as if beckoning to the shades—uplifted her eyes, as if praying for -grace—then, suddenly breaking the portentous silence which had hung over -us so long, she said, ‘Dear children, beloved little ones, come close to -me.’ We gathered close around her. ‘Your poor mother is going the way of -all the earth—she is going to leave you—and her memory will be as though -she never had been. I entreat you to be kind to each other; to love and -cherish each other’s friendship, practice virtue and good works, that ye -may become worthy of heavenly rewards, and meet your mother above.’ - -“Her face was animated with almost supernatural energy for an instant; -she pointed upwards with her finger for an instant, then her clay-cold -fingers shrank from my clasp: she fell backward on her pillow; her -eyes were glazed in the mists of death; and they, hardened in their -expression, became fixed and cold; her arms stiffened, and fell rigid to -her side: her whole form collapsed and changed. Death had claimed its -own; all was over: the wrongs she had endured, her joys, her sorrows, -were like a tale that is told; they were lost in the womb of time—past -and forgotten. - -“Petrified with fear to the spot—horror struck—we gazed upon the -inanimate clay; then, after the first spasm of terror was past, we rushed -to the nurse, and gathered round her, seeking consolation for that loss, -which no power—mortal, or immortal—could restore to us. - -“We wept ourselves to sleep that night, in our respective chambers. I, -more than all the rest, felt wretched. God alone knows how miserable I -was. And when I recalled my mother’s gentleness, her forbearance, her -enduring love for a worthless man, _and its reward_, oh! that added the -last bitter drop in the cup of wo! - -“My father returned next day; he seemed neither surprised nor grieved -when told of her death: how should he be, when he had planned, and -premeditated it: ‘her health had been so feeble within the last two -years,’ he said, ‘the event was not an unexpected one.’ Mademoiselle came -not near us, and, absorbed in grief, I had forgotten her very existence. - -“When the corpse was laid out, we all went to take a last fond look of -that loved form, and bid it a temporary, perhaps eternal, adieu. - -“She lay in state upon a costly bier, dressed as for a bridal. The white -satin robe she was attired in, was not whiter than her marble face and -hands: the wreath upon her hair scarcely outvied them in purity of color; -and her face bore that expression of almost unearthly beauty, which rests -upon the faces of the dead the first few hours after death. So calm, -so pure and beautiful did she look, I almost thought her sleeping, and -imagined I saw the grave-clothes rise and fall, with the respiration of -life, upon that dead bosom. Oh, my mother! wert thou conscious of the -tears I shed, thou wouldst have pitied me!” - -Monsieur de Serval paused; his voice was inarticulate from emotion. -Dropping my hand, he covered his face with both his, and trembled with -grief. A man is generally ashamed to show such feelings before a woman; -but the recollections of his youth had completely unmanned him. I thought -it indelicate to proffer words of condolence, and, therefore, waited till -he became quieted, and went on. - -“The grief of my two brothers and sister partook more of wonder and fear -than sorrow; but my soul was literally devoured with despair, and at that -moment I most sincerely wished myself dead and buried with her. I had -lost my best friend: the only one who could console my boyish vexations -and advise my actions. - -“A splendid marble tomb was erected over the broken heart it enshrined, -in the cemetery of the church belonging to the chateau, and an -epitaph inscribed, testifying to the virtues of the departed, and the -inconsolability of the bereaved widower. How I despised the man, even -though my own father, who could thus add hypocrisy to villany! - -“Within three months after her death, he outraged even the usual -conventional forms of mourning, and espoused the governess. From that -time henceforth, completely throwing off the mask of affection she had -previously worn, my brothers and sister, as well as myself, felt her -iron rule. We were aliens and strangers in our own home: all obeyed the -imperious will of the new Madame de Serval;—we were neglected and left -alone. - -“Through her influence on the mind of her husband, he decided on -sending me away to college. Me she most particularly disliked, and -on all occasions treated me with studied contempt. There was a tacit -understanding between us that we mutually understood each other. _She_ -knew me to possess penetration: _I felt_ that she was a vile intriguante. -She saw it would be far better for her control over my brothers and -sister, that I should be away. My elder brother, Francois, was never very -bright. Pierre (younger than myself) was no more so than need be: he was -extremely amiable and easily influenced; and Lelia, any one could manage. -Of the whole four I was most capable of resistance; consequently it was -most desirable to get me out of the way. - -“A celebrated college, in a distant district, was selected as my -destination, and the day appointed for my departure. I asked if Francois -could not be sent to the same college for the completion of his -education, that we might be companions to each other in our studies. My -request was sternly refused by my father, and I was bade attend to my -own business, and not trouble myself about Francois’s movements. Thus -silenced, I made a merit of necessity, and obeyed, because I could not -help myself, resolving mentally, however, that, when grown to man’s -estate, I would shake off the underhand tyranny of this woman, and enlist -in the army as a foot soldier, sooner than submit to her petty malice. -She planned this merely to annoy me, knowing the society of my brother -would be pleasing to me. What my father intended doing with either -him or Pierre, neither they nor I knew: Lelia would remain under the -guardianship of her former governess. - -“Thus were we separated. I bade them farewell and departed, glad to be -removed from the evil atmosphere of a depraved woman. - -“I soon became a favorite with my preceptors at the institution. Francois -corresponded with me regularly the first year. Little Lelia, he said, -was in delicate health; her stepmother treated her with harshness and -severity; Pierre drooped in listless languor. He was in daily expectation -of being ordered off to join his regiment,—father having bought him -a commission in the 49th hussars. Of his own feelings, or the state -of affairs between Monsieur de Serval and his wife, he never spoke; -perhaps, I thought, he had forgotten our mother’s wrongs, grown politic, -conciliated the kindness of his stepmother, and consequently was more -tolerated; but I hoped not. I trusted the remembrance of the injuries of -that angel-woman were too deeply impressed on his mind, to allow him to -be so easily seduced into love or kindness to her betrayer. The tone of -his letters was reckless and gloomy: these feelings I regretted seeing in -one so young, and wished he were within the sphere of my influence, that -I might win him to better things. - -“Subsequently I heard from him after his arrival in the Barbary -States, whither he had been ordered. He described the climate as being -insupportably hot, and a soldier’s life a hard one; yet, having entered -the service, was determined to remain and fight his way to distinction. - -“The large patrimony my mother brought my father, had, upon her -ill-starred marriage, been exclusively settled on herself (subject to her -control alone), and, at her death, she bequeathed it to her children, -divided equally amongst us. Upon the completion of my education, I paid a -short visit home, to claim my share of the patrimony, and see my brother -and sister. Lelia, grown tall and graceful, welcomed me with joy; my -father, with cold civility; the ex-governess, with haughty coldness. -When I inquired for Pierre, they directed me to the church-yard where my -mother reposed, and where her youngest son now slumbered by her side, in -the blessed sleep of forgetfulness. I did not weep over his grave with -the same wild lamentation with which I had bewailed her loss: on the -contrary, as I stood over the little mound which held the human earth, I -almost felt a secret satisfaction that the boy had been taken away from -the evils to come; that his pure young mind had not remained here to -become contaminated by mingling with inferior, less elevated souls. - -“Lelia told me how he died of a fever, and how he had wished to see me; -but was ungratified in the wish in his dying hour. Father had commanded -that no word should be sent me of his illness or death; thus I had -remained in ignorance of either. When she told me this, a suspicion -flashed across me, that, perhaps, he had been dealt with like his poor -mother; but reflection convinced me that his stepmother could have had no -object in putting him out of the world. He was an amiable, inoffensive -boy; he interfered with her in no way; and as she was a woman of strong -mind and good reasoning faculties, it was not probable she would have -committed a deed, the execution of which could in no way have benefited -her. At any rate he was dead; and as I looked on Lelia, her youth, her -beauty, and the atmosphere of innocence and grace which seemed to hover -round and adorn her, I wondered what destiny had in store for her, and I -prayed that the angel-shade of our mutual parent—or some other invisible -inhabitant of a better land—might preside over her future years, and -shield them from all evil. - -“But the halls of my ancestors were no longer a home for me, and I felt -it strongly during the few days I spent there. The absurd spectacle of -the blind infatuation of a man, already on the decline of life, who fed -and cherished his vanity into the ridiculous belief that he was still -loveable and beloved by a young and artful woman, was—had I been an -uninterested spectator of the farce—more laughable than anything else; -but, as it was, indignation, instead of merriment, stirred my feelings, -and I wished to be out of sight of so disgraceful an exhibition of -superannuated folly; and my father, while doting upon his minion, and -squandering his fortune upon her in every description of extravagance, -actually believed himself to be as attractive and fascinating as any -young man of twenty-five. When I recurred to this portion of my father’s -life in after years, I always thought of what a young Parisian girl once -said to me: ‘Are not those two words, man and vanity, synonymous?’ That -young and handsome men should be vain of conquest is not astonishing; but -that old men, hackneyed and worn, from misuse of the senses, possessing -all the vices of the young, without their personal attractions or their -virtues,—that _such_ men should be candidates for the affections of young -women, or dare to suppose they can obtain or possess them, is scarcely -more reprehensible than ridiculous. The world has always seemed to me a -perfect farce—a play: a stage on which all act, and those who play the -best are thought the best in the eyes of the undiscriminating world. -What part my father and his favorite would have taken in the drama, I am -unable to say; but my own opinion is, that a fool’s cap for him, and the -symbol of knavery for her, would have suited to a charm. - -“Lelia was liberally provided with many attendants, teachers for various -languages, and every thing the child could wish in the way of dress or -equipage. Being satisfied that her welfare and comfort was attended to, I -arranged with father to draw upon his banker in Paris for my means; and, -bidding Lelia farewell—who sobbed and wept grievously at my departure—I -glanced good-bye to the turreted towers, the lofty archways and imposing -battlements of the homes of my forefathers, and took my way to the -capital of France, intending to pursue the study of the law. - -“But, alas! for the self-promised virtue of youth and inexperience! I had -not been in the gay city many weeks before the giddy vortex of Parisian -society had enthralled me, and overcame many of my stoical resolves: so -little do we know what we shall do until tasked by practice. I at first -wondered at the wild and unrestrained dissipations of the youth of the -metropolis; but, insensibly, by degrees this wonderment ceased, as I -became accustomed to, and shared in these frivolities. - -“An old lawyer—in former years a devoted friend of my father—now, in -turn, performed the offices of friend to me; _i. e._ gave me good advice -on the temptations and snares of life; the dangers of love affairs, -particularly illicit ones; the beauty of propriety of demeanor; the -respectability of religion—at least its external appearance, no matter -about the _sincerity_ of the heart; and, lastly, the propriety of placing -myself under his guidance, and steadfastly following his counsels. -Fortunately, I did not take advantage of the kindness extended me; for, -had I followed his counsels—or, rather, what one might suppose _would_ -have been his counsels, twenty years before—I should have been engulphed -in ruin long ago. I followed the dictates of a young, and, at that time, -pure heart; and pursued my own way, naturally enough concluding, that -every man has a right to his own way of thinking, and his own rule of -action, provided he interfered with no one else. - -“I studied law with my _moral_ friend for some time; and might at this -moment, perhaps, have been an advocate, had not unforeseen events changed -the current of my life otherwise. - -“While in Paris I became acquainted with a lady of noble rank and ancient -family; and, since I am giving you a faithful chronicle of my days, -Genevra, I will not conceal from you, that once, and once only, have I -loved, in by gone years, a lady, as beautiful, though not as virtuous, or -talented, as yourself—loved, I say, as fondly, as blindly, as I now love -you. - -“Her name was Madame Anacharsis Valliere; and she was the youthful wife -of an old banker; she was then one of the most fashionable and admired -of any in Paris. I first met her at a ball, and afterwards visited her -at her house constantly. I cannot describe the artlessness and playful -witchery of her ways, nor that light and play of feature which allured -and captivated me—even though I saw the risk I ran, both for myself and -her: the remembrance of her haunted me for years after the love had died -away, and both passion, and the reciprocity it had met with from her -confiding fondness, had faded from my mind. - -“That was my first ‘grande passion!’ The woman who pleased me then, would -not please me now: so do our tastes and habits change as we go onward: -but then, young and warm, yet shy, I required to be led on to love: now, -I would rather seek it myself: consequently, I prefer one who rather -shrinks from than advances to me. - -“Her husband, absorbed in business, and money speculations could not -find time to devote much attention to his fair wife; and, trusting to -her honor, her sense of duty, and shrinking modesty, to preserve her in -the right way, he allowed her to do as she pleased, and go with whom she -pleased; it often pleased her then to go with me. He had great confidence -in me; I am sorry to say it was misplaced; but undesignedly, at least, -I can with conscience say that, I did not intend to love the wife, or -injure the husband. When I first became acquainted with them, little by -little she grew to love me; if I did not come at the appointed hour, -Madame Anacharsis, forgetting her embroidery, music, flowers, visitors, -everything, would sit at the window facing the street, whence she -regularly expected me, and muse and watch for me; then the sudden start, -the smile of welcome when I came, the tears which suffused her eyes when -I departed, by all these tokens, and a hundred others, I knew as well as -words could speak it, that she loved me; what man is virtuous enough to -slight the manifest love of a beautiful woman? I saw my triumph and I -felt happy, for my feelings echoed hers. - -“I then became her constant visitor, her devoted admirer; I was with her -continually, at her morning concerts, her evening soirees: I was ever at -her side. The old husband, infatuated in his idolatry of his young wife, -saw nothing, suspected nothing; thus we went on till passion crowned -the whole; nothing was left for me to wish for. Was I happy then? In the -possession of all that I had thought so admirable, so angelic, I have -often asked myself that question, and never have been able to answer it -satisfactorily. I lost myself then in the mysteries of love, and forgot -everything but her. - -“We had been wrapt up, bound up in each other for the space of three -months, and the old man still blundered on in confidence, though I was -ever at his wife’s side like her shadow. He frequently consulted me on -business matters, and both in public and private, expressed the highest -opinion of me. I could not but regret the moment when he would be -undeceived, and perceive the _real_ state of things; yet the whole affair -had been involuntarily on both sides. Society, which always decides so -arbitrarily in these matters, would at once have pronounced that either -I was a rake, or she a bold, frail woman. Neither was the case, a woman -possessed of more true modesty and integrity than Madame Anacharsis I -have never seen; her fault was over self-confidence, and reliance on me; -and I, not dreaming of love, cherished to maturity the germ of a passion -with which I had already inspired her. - -“We had been planning a fête champêtre, and one evening I bent my steps -to her house, with a portfolio of beautiful costumes; one, handsomer than -the others, I had chosen, and wished to induce her to adopt it for the -occasion. - -“The attendants were absent from the anti-chamber, and I entered the -salon de reception unannounced; Madame was there, alone. She sat upon a -low ottoman, her profile toward me; she wore a blue satin dress, made -so low in the neck that half her fair bosom was exposed; but it was the -fashion then, and when fashion countenances an impropriety, it no longer -seems one. She seemed absorbed in thought, for she had slid half off the -stool, her small hands clasped, and brown eyes upward fixed in thought, -or absentness. - -“She started, and rose up on hearing my step, and I now saw that her -cheeks were wet with tears; surprised at these unwonted tokens of sadness -in one usually so gay, I asked the cause. - -“She wiped the tears from her eyes, and seating herself by my side, -placed her little hands in mine, (where they had often been before,) and -looking me straight in the face, suddenly addressed me thus, - -“‘Rinaldo, my husband has discovered our love: he knows all.’ - -“‘Good heavens, how could he, how should he?’ I cried. - -“‘Indeed he has: this very afternoon he told me that he has watched you -and me for sometime past, without our knowing it. He spoke so gently, so -kindly to me of my fault, that his very leniency made me feel a hundred -times more miserable than all the reproaches in the world could have -done; he said he knew I was young enough to be his child,—that so great a -disparity of years must preclude much happiness; but when he reminded me -of the unlimited indulgence with which I had been treated, the tenderness -with which all my wants, and even my most fantastic whims had been -anticipated; _then_, indeed, I felt how unjustly I had served him. He -told me too, how much confidence he had ever reposed in me, allowing me -to go with whom I liked, and where I liked, without question; and turning -my eyes inward, I saw how far I had fallen from my own high standard of -female virtue. - -“‘I said nothing in extenuation of my fault, and in silence acquiesced -to guilt; but when my husband took me to his arms again, and told me he -would forgive me, even though he became the laughing stock of Paris, on -condition I would solemnly swear never to commit the same offence again; -and also to send you away, and never more to see your face; then I saw -how magnanimous he was in his love, how infatuated in his devotion to me, -unworthy me. - -“‘And now we must part, dear Rinaldo, I mean to say, Monsieur de Serval, -we must never meet again, or if we do meet in public, as strangers. It -will be a very hard task for me to tear your image from my heart, but I -_must_; I ought to love my husband: has he not been so kind to me? Oh, -yes, I must forget you, and of course you will forget me: very soon some -other will usurp my place. Oh, I wish I were dead and buried.’ - -“She fell down upon her knees and wept: it seemed to be so difficult for -her to surrender me; and it was equally severe for me, for I was tenderly -attached to her. The husband’s discovery had been startling news: I had -not dreamt that Valliere had suspected us; it only remained for us now to -say farewell,—a sad word to be spoken at any time, but most particularly -in an affair of the heart: it was some minutes before I could calm -her sufficiently to speak, and then she only spoke of her fault, her -unhappiness, and her jealous dread of my loving some other better than -herself. - -“‘Oh, you will not entirely forget me, will you, Rinaldo? Although -hereafter we shall never see each other, you will sometimes think of me; -think how unhappy I am; how unwise I have been; but do not despise my -weakness; do not think of me with contempt, perhaps, at some future day, -when you may love a woman of sterner virtue than myself.’ - -“‘Dear lady, I can never think of you with any other sentiment than -admiration. What is there to contemn in one so beautiful and amiable? -We have erred unwittingly; if any is to blame, it is myself, not you. -May God, who sees all things, forgive me if I have caused you a moment’s -pain.’ - -“‘It is very hard to say farewell forever,’ she kept repeating, as -she hung upon my hand; ‘but it must be said,’—and after mutual sighs, -regrets, tears, and kisses, I sorrowfully tore myself away. She fell -fainting on a sofa as I left the saloon, and I brushed tears from my own -cheeks as I rushed down the marble terrace steps of her elegant abode. - -“My feelings were wild, incoherent, and bitter,—yes, bitter as wormwood, -for none but honorable loves yield satisfaction and repose to the soul. -I regretted ever having come to Paris, or ever having crossed the bright -pathway of so young and innocent a creature; but her husband would still -countenance and love her. She was not abandoned or cast away to neglect -or shame; that was a great consolation to me; and trusting that her gay -and child-like disposition would interest itself in the world, and that -new associations would obliterate me from her memory, I became calmed, -and returned to my ordinary pursuits. - -“Not long after, I received news of my brother’s death, at Tunis. He had -been shot in a duel. The cause of the encounter was not explained. My two -brothers were both dead, and I became heir to my father’s estate. - -“Francois and myself had never been sufficiently alike in disposition to -become tenderly attached. Nevertheless, I regretted his death, as one -is in duty to the laws of nature bound to do. Rumor said the charming -Madame Anacharsis Valliere had withdrawn from all gay society, and lived -entirely in the country. Her health was said to be declining. This -was some months after our separation; and possessing the clue to her -new love of solitude, I was vain enough to attribute her ennui to sad -reminiscences of me. - -“I had now been in Paris two years, when I suddenly resolved, one day, to -go home, and if my father treated me with such incivility as to render a -long residence disagreeable, I could, in that case, return to Paris. I -had lost much of the wildness I had brought to the city, and had sobered -down. My old friend, the lawyer, had proved himself to be a real friend -to me, notwithstanding some lingering traces of youthful vanity. Small -foibles are, however, forgiveable when counterbalanced by other good -qualities; and I was grateful to him for his kindness. He advised me to -stay and pursue the practice of the law. But yielding to some strange -presentiment, which bade me go, I promised him soon to return, and set -off. - -“I arrived at the castle after twilight had deepened into sombre night. -A dense forest of lindens surrounded the old homestead of my childhood, -on one side of the building, for more than a mile; and riding through -the thicket of trees had, perhaps, pre-disposed me to sadness, for I -certainly felt so, when I arrived. No porter was, as usual, at the -lodge, and the gardens bore evidence of neglect. I rode on; passed the -drawbridge, and dismounting, left the horse to find his way alone to the -stables. I went into the inner court of the castle, through the massive -gateway, and after traversing that, into the servants’ hall. None of -the domestics were there. I was amazed at this; for among the numerous -attendants my father was want to keep around him, surely some of them -would be at their posts. Everything looked so familiar, that even the old -wainscotting seemed to welcome me back. - -“I went up stairs into the enormous banquetting hall, where in the olden -time, had often been heard sounds of uproarious conviviality, the coarse -jest, and loud song, and shone beauty’s gentle presence; but it was now -silent and deserted; cobwebs wandered unmolested on its walls; and the -rich crimson drapery of the window curtains was thick with dust,—the -result of years of neglect. No one was here either; and I began to -conclude that I had in truth come to the abode of death, when suddenly -recollecting the day of the month, I remembered that it was the annual -holiday, on which servants had permission to visit the village for the -day. This explained _their_ absence; but where was Lelia, my father, -and step-mother? Had they deserted the house; or were they all dead? I -began to feel infected with superstitious gloom. I went up the grand -staircase, and sought the different bed chambers of the family. They -were tenantless. In Lelia’s, several articles of wearing apparel lay -scattered about, and a miniature of our mother—an exquisite painting set -in gold, and adorned with pearls and emeralds—was lying on her toilet -table, entangled with other trinkets, as if thrown down in haste; but the -presiding nymph of the boudoir was not there. - -“As I stood in the centre of the room staring around me, and wondering -what had become of them all;—as I stood thus, a wild shriek of fear, -revenge, agony, despair,—it sounded like a compendium of all these -emotions—burst startlingly upon my ears. Amazed, I listened intently. I -heard no more: all was still, save the flapping of the venetian blinds, -as they swung to and fro in the wind, and the mournful cooing of the -doves. A curse seemed to have come and laid its blight and ban upon -this unhappy domicile. The living appeared to have deserted it;—perhaps -celestials, mayhap demons, had substituted themselves in their place. I -determined to ascertain what that strange sound meant, and directed my -steps to the quarter whence I thought it proceeded. - -“I had forgotten to look in my step-mother’s drawing room. It was on the -same floor with Lelia’s room. The scream seemed to have come from there. -Thither I went. As I neared the door, I heard a low hissing laugh. The -house must be haunted. Surely devils were here. Three steps brought me -full before the open door, and, oh, great God! I saw a sight that froze -my heart with horror!” - -Monsieur de Serval here started to his feet, as if he still beheld what -he described. He stared wildly before him a moment; then recovering -himself sat down, and continued: - -“Yes, there, in the middle of the room, stood the accursed priest, -Father Ignatius; his arms folded, and sinister features expanded into a -demoniacal smile. Yes, he who hastened my mother’s death, was there; and -he now contemplated with the eyes of cold contempt, the death agonies of -two other unhappy beings.” - -“Who were they?” I suddenly demanded, breaking in upon the thread of the -narrative. - -“My miserable father and his wife. She lay stretched upon the floor, the -red life-blood gushing in torrents from a deep wound in her neck; and she -shook her clenched fists in impotent revenge at her husband and murderer. -Her face, hands, and hair were smeared with blood, and with the energy of -death and despair, she muttered curses on his head. - -“And he, unhappy being, I could not help feeling some pity for him;—he -was my father. In him life seemed quite extinct. He had fallen on a -sofa, and lay to all appearance dead: his gray hair fallen back from his -death-pale countenance, and his arms hanging listlessly down from his -side; marks of blood were also on his person. - -“Horror-struck I gazed. This was my welcome home. Then animated by a -strange desire to add a third to this goblin group, and kill that vile -priest, I strode up to him, and seized him by the arms. - -“‘Vile, degraded wretch,’ I cried, ‘and is it you who has done this? Have -you added downright murder to the indirect means you used to accomplish -my mother’s death? Say, say!’ I gasped, ‘is it _your_ deed?’ - -“The monk turned black with rage; but he controlled himself, and said -quietly:— - -“‘My son, I am as innocent of their deaths as yourself. Only a few -minutes ago I arrived here, having just returned from Vienna. Finding no -one about the castle, I came in here seeking for your father and madame. -Approaching, I heard loud words, and on entering, saw your father stab -your step-mother, then turn the weapon against himself, when they both -fell as you see them now. The cause of his conduct I am unacquainted -with.’ - -“I did not credit him, and was about to inflict summary vengeance upon -him, or compel him to tell me the truth, when the dying woman, raising -herself half way on her elbow, after several attempts at speech, feebly -articulated: - -“‘Not he, but he,’ pointing to my father; ‘_he_ did it.’ - -“A frightful convulsion of pain distorted her face. She pressed her hand -to her neck, whence the blood issued, and falling back on the floor, -after a slight spasm, expired. All this happened in a much shorter space -of time than it requires to tell it you. It seemed as if the invisible -hand of fate had conducted me there to behold this horrible spectacle. -What insanity could have urged my father to such a deed? - -“This abandoned woman was dead—stone dead. Her career of deceit and -extravagance was ended, and my martyred mother’s manes appeased. After -looking attentively at the corpse, to see if life was entirely extinct, I -turned my attention to my father; but he was already dead. Her features -retained in death their expression of lowering darkness, and his the same -look of concentrated iron will they had worn in life. - -“‘Oh, most gracious God!’ I ejaculated, sinking on my knees in earnest -prayer;—‘Oh, vouchsafe to have mercy on their souls; grant them thy -grace.’ - -“‘Amen,’ said the monk; and he had glided from the apartment before I -could arrest his departure. I wished to detain him, at least till I had -procured a physician and coroner, and had an inquest on the bodies; but -he was gone. Had the devil sent him there also to witness the death -of his accomplice? or accident, or what? There was none to answer my -questions, but the solitary castle itself;—but could walls have spoken, -I presume they would have told me many a strange tale, of strange scenes -that had happened since I had left them. - -“Assistance must be had, and as none of the servants had yet returned, I -mounted my horse and rode to the village, whence I soon returned with a -physician and magistrate. - -“Their unaccountable deaths puzzled the man of law much; but when I had -explained all the circumstances to the sensible, quiet physician, he -appeared perfectly satisfied that they had come to their deaths as I -surmised,—she from his hand, and he from self-infliction. - -“‘And you have no clue, no idea of the cause of this terrible event?’ he -said, after I had told him all. - -“‘None whatever. I found them as you see them now,’ - -“‘It is most unaccountable,’ said the magistrate. ‘I cannot imagine of -anything so despicable, as a man to commit suicide. This is not only -suicide, but murder, too; perfectly atrocious. I never could have thought -your father capable of such a deed.’ - -“‘We know not what we shall do till we are tried. Let us pray God to -preserve us from temptation,’ said the wise physician; and we left the -room, locking the door, until some one should come to lay out the bodies. - -“The physician and magistrate stayed an hour with me in the banquetting -hall, discussing the strange affair. At least _they_ discussed it, with -professional indifference. For myself, I was stupified, satiated with -horror, and said almost nothing. Then some of the domestics returned, and -the gray-haired butler, the male nurse and companion of my childhood, -listened with stupid surprise to my account of his master’s death. - -“‘Why, sir,’ stammered he, as if in doubt of his own identity, ‘I left -them both well, and together in madame’s parlor. How could master so -suddenly have taken it into his head to kill her, and then kill himself?’ - -“‘Have there ever been any violent quarrels between your master and -mistress, that you have been aware of?’ I inquired. - -“‘Oh! yes, sir, a great many: for the last two years they have scarcely -done any thing but fight. I’ve often heard him tell her he would send -her off, and call you back, and make you master here. Miss Lelia fretted -much about you; she wished to see you; and madame always abused her. -Master seemed to take a great dislike to his wife in the last two years; -whenever he spoke of you, she always got into a perfect fever; she -really seemed wild; and she would dare him to do something which he said -he would do, if she did not do as he told her. Oh! we’ve had a deal of -trouble since you went away.’ - -“‘I see the whole affair plainly now,’ said the magistrate; ‘they had -become involved in one of these quarrels; words ran high; he probably -struck her; and then, becoming infuriated as his anger rose, murdered -her; and, either from dread of discovery, or disgust of life, killed -himself: thus it must have been; and a most deplorable affair it is, too.’ - -“‘Where is my sister Lelia?’ I asked of Juan. - -“‘She went some days ago to spend a week with some lady friend of hers.’ - -“‘How far is she from here?’ - -“‘Some six miles, sir.’ - -“‘Take one of the fastest horses and go after her: say only her brother -has arrived, and wishes to see her—nothing more.’ - -“‘Yes, sir:’ the servant departed. - -“Some lay sisters were sent for, and came from the neighboring convent to -lay out the bodies. Scarcely was their mournful task completed, when Juan -returned with Lelia. The beautiful girl burst into tears as she rushed -to embrace me; and her grief redoubled when I told her of that day’s sad -events.’ - -“‘My brother, dear, you little know the many lonely days I’ve passed -since you left us, and how often I have wished for you; that bad woman -always treated me with contempt, and father never cared for me; I have -passed my days alone, always alone, dreaming and regretting: father -changed much, however, in his opinion of you, and would have had you back -again, but madame always opposed it; but I little thought, when I left -here a week ago, that I should find them both dead on returning. - -“I consoled poor Lelia as much as possible, and promised her many future -years of happiness; and so far as that happiness depended on myself, I -kept my promise. When shown the dead body of her father, she burst into -torrents of tears, and fell fainting over the corpse. We removed her -to her own room, and the bodies were consigned to mother earth without -her again seeing them. With pious care my sister had tended on her -mother’s grave: and flowers of all hues, all species, grew there in wild -luxuriance: and a spirit of holiness seemed breathed around it, as if -the pure soul that had animated that mortal clay, still hallowed, still -guarded the casket the immortal gem had once inhabited, and preserved it -from evil influence. - -“They were then all gathered together in death: my legitimate father and -mother, the bold usurper of her just rights, and my gentle brother. The -governess I buried without a tombstone; she was not worthy of any; the -common earth I could not refuse her, but even that I thought too good for -her: but I will no longer speak of her, nor trouble you with my personal -animosities, but will hasten to the conclusion of my tale. - -“I took possession, as sole and natural heir, of the remnant of fortune -and estate left me; but finding the castle so deeply mortgaged, that -it was more trouble to keep than it was worth, I sold it; I was partly -induced to do so from Lelia’s nervous dread of remaining in the house -where so terrible a murder had been committed, and partly from my -incapacity to sustain so expensive an establishment with such small -means. I felt much regret at parting with the halls of my ancestors, -but the desolate castle would have made a gloomy home for so young a -creature as Lelia; she was now at an age when society and gay life would -please and captivate; and I determined to take her to Paris with me. -The prospect of leaving the solitude and isolation, to which her whole -lifetime had been alone devoted, charmed her. - -“The home of my childhood passed into stranger-hands. Previous to our -departure I caused diligent search to be made in the vicinity for the -wicked father Ignatius; but he had disappeared as strangely as he came, -and left no trace of his coming or exit. I was convinced, however, -from numerous circumstances, traced to their cause, that he was not -concerned in or any way accessory to my father’s and stepmother’s death. -Judging from what the domestics told me, and from what I gathered from -the neighboring gentry whom my father visited, I surmised that remorse -had at last seized upon that man of iron nerve: becoming tired of the -governess, or else conceiving a hatred to her, from recollection of the -evil deed she had induced him to commit, violent quarrels, crimination -and recrimination, was the natural result of alienation of affection; -when under the influence of anger we lose our self-consciousness, and -know not what we do: in a fit of rage he killed her; and, dreading the -consequences, and disgrace, added the last act to this tragedy of sin, -and committed suicide. That death scene I shall never forget; no, not -if I were to live a thousand years: it haunts me yet with frightful -vividness. - -“I took Lelia with me to Paris, where she afterwards married, well and -happily, the man of her choice, and lives there still. - -“I resumed the practice of the law, and became distinguished in that -profession. From association with the gayeties of the metropolis, I -confess I contracted habits I regret having acquired: my disposition -was ardent and excitable, and it carried me too far. I played high, -and was seldom fortunate,—almost invariably losing. From mixing with -society of a certain class, I acquired the reputation of a _roué_ in many -instances; that, also, was undeserved; although at that time young and -vain, I was more easily caught in love snares than at present. Thus, for -some three years longer, I led a gay, wild, yet unhappy life. Then I -began to weary of this futile way of spending time. My health had become -impaired by excess, and satiety had taken the place of levity. I wished -to find some woman in whose integrity I could confide, and marry her, and -become a better man; but among all the gay, the rich, the talented, the -beautiful women with whom I was acquainted, none suited me, none equalled -my expectations. Sometimes I saw a woman whose _personelle_ pleased -me; but, on acquaintance, I always discovered something wanting in the -mind,—something I could wish added or taken away. I could no where find -my Psyche. I gave up my profession, although it yielded me a fine income, -and came here to Naples. - -“Here I have been living since, unhappy and listless amid pleasures, -longing for something I have never yet found, and have thought, till I -saw you, I never should find; but at the countess’ ball, where first I -saw your gentle face, I felt irresistibly attracted toward you: nor has -acquaintance disappointed the illusion of fancy; but, on the contrary, -strengthened it, and I now love, where first I admired: your upright -principles, your beauty, your unblemished reputation and pure heart, have -won my love and esteem. Nature evidently designed you for private life, -cultivated and elegant society. Let me then be that faithful friend, -lover, and husband,—three principles in one person—who shall guard and -guide your steps through the quick-sands of life. Consent to redeem me -from past errors: teach me to shape my course more worthily in future. -Woman’s influence, when she exerts it in the right way, is great; do -you then become my Mentor, and I will be as docile and obedient as -Telemachus.” - -Monsieur ceased. Meanwhile the bougie was extinguished, and the rays of -moonlight, as they tremblingly broke through the clouds, alone illumed -the room. I did not like to be sitting there so late at night, and with a -gentleman alone. - -“It is late: I know I am intruding upon you,” said he, and he rose upon -his feet; “yet, before I go, say that I may hope—say, dearest Genevra, -that you accept me.” He pressed my hands in his. I heard him; but did not -take the sense of what he said. I was in a dream: one of those delightful -waking dreams of fairy land, in which I have so often indulged. - -“No answer still, Genevra. Are you angry?” - -“Oh, no! Monsieur, not with you.” - -“With others?” - -“I don’t know.” - -“A woman’s answer, which means you do: give me the legitimate right to -be your champion? Ah! let me be your husband and defender?” - -“I am afraid that, if I marry you, you will some day regret your -condescension and your love, which induces you to descend below your rank -to marry an actress.” - -“No, never!” cried he, in an indignant tone, “do you take me for a -child—a fool, who knows not his own mind; for none but fools act without -pre-consideration.” - -“You have my consent then, Monsieur: may I prove worthy of you and your -expectations.” - -Joyously he kissed me. “Now, at last, I hope to realize my dreams of -domestic happiness and love. Good night then, my pet; to-morrow I shall -see you again, before I leave on my journey to the north of Italy, where -business demands my presence.” - -“How long will you be gone?” - -“One or two weeks only: I shall hasten to rejoin you. Good night.” - -Reluctantly he departed. I withdrew to my own room, and, when in bed, -endeavored to analyze his memoir. I tried to be impartial, and judge -by reason alone, if he were worthy of my affection; but love confused -reason, or rather the mischievous god construed everything in his own -favor, and demanded blind faith, which, like charity, covers a multitude -of sins. Inexperienced, too, in the ways of men, I knew not of that -seductive eloquence which dazzles the mind through the heart; besides, I -was so young and confiding—it was so charming a thing to be loved—that I -did not care to inquire too closely into cause and effect, and crediting -all, and happy in the belief, I fell asleep. - - * * * * * - -The next day my lover came and spent two hours with me. He brought me a -beautiful diamond ring, the token of our engagement—the gems set in the -form of a star,—and a miniature of himself, which he placed around my -neck. - -“This will serve to recall me to your memory sometimes, while I am gone,” -he remarked, playfully. - -“If a woman loves a man, she needs nothing to recall him to mind, and if -she does not, where is the use of a portrait?” - -“Ah! you little logician;—little philosopher, you confute me at all -points.” - -“Am I not right, though?” - -“Yes; you are always right, at least in my opinion.” - -“I shall sing in the Opera of Somnambula to-morrow night; will you be -there to hear me? but I forget, you will leave this evening, and of -course cannot come.” - -“Yes, I go this afternoon. The time will seem tiresome and tedious until -re-united to you. If it were possible, I would excuse myself from this -journey: it must absolutely be performed, and I must tear myself away -from you and happiness for the present.” - -“And I shall feel lonely, too, until your return: it is so new, so -strange and delightful to be loved, I hardly can realize its truth.” - -“I trust many bright years to come, we shall experience its happiness, -and time will convince you of its reality.” - -After he was gone, I hastened to Blanche, to confide my secret to her—for -a woman must have a confidant of some sort. I found her sitting musingly -at an open window, her fair face pillowed on her hand. She listened with -kindness and interest to my relation of Monsieur de Serval’s sudden and -unexpected offer, and appeared gratified at the seeming good fortune -which awaited me, when I asked her if she thought him an honorable man -and serious in his intentions. She replied: - -“It is difficult to tell, my dear Genevra, who is _really_ honorable and -who is not, for many possess the outward semblance to perfection, without -the quality; but that he wishes and intends to marry you, I question -not. What object could he have in formally proposing and making these -presents, if he did not intend it? The first time I saw him in your -society, I discovered that he loved you. It is a fortunate event which -enables you, thus early in your professional career, to marry, and leave -this disagreeable business.” - -“Don’t you wish to marry and leave it also, dear Blanche?” - -“I don’t know what I wish, my dear: I wish I was dead sometimes,” sighed -my friend. - -“Come, cheer up, dearest,” said I, kissing her; “don’t give way to -melancholy. You who are so young, so admired and beautiful,—what have you -to grieve about? Let me persuade you to be gay: you know we are to sing -together to-morrow; is your costume ready?” - -“Oh, yes! I always have everything prepared in advance.” - -“What can I do to amuse you? Oh, Blanche!” I exclaimed, a thought -suddenly striking me, “there is an old fortune-telling witch living out -on the Posillippo road, let us take a walk out there this evening and -hear our destiny; it will be at least amusing, if not instructive. Will -you go with me?” - -“Yes, certainly, if it will oblige you; but I have no faith in -fortune-tellers.” - -She quickly dressed, and we set out. After ascending the steep hill of -the Castle of San Elmo, we took the shady road—bordered on each side by -linden trees—which led to the pretty village of Posillippo. I had been -told that old Acte inhabited, sybil-like, a cavern in the rock of a steep -hill, about half way to the village. We examined all the rocks as we went -along; but no traces of fairies’ haunts, or witches’ caverns did we see. -After walking on some distance, we reached the brow of a rising hill, -and as I gazed staringly up its steep sides, endeavoring to discover the -celebrated abode of the prophetess, I saw a deep cavity in the rock—the -opening half overgrown with ivy and wild flowers; a small foot-path -wound up to it amid the grass. It had a wild, mysterious appearance, and -conjecturing that must be the place, we ascended to it. - -“Dear Genevra!” cried Blanche, tremblingly, as I stooped at the small -aperture on entering, “pray be careful. Are you sure this is old woman’s -abode? you may be mistaken;—this may be a wild beast’s den.” - -“This is the place, I know, from description. Don’t be afraid: give me -your hand; I will assist you in.” Grasping my hand from fear, Blanche was -dragged by me through the opening. When fairly through, we rose upright -upon our feet, and looked at our localities. - -We stood in a large chamber, excavated from the solid rock;—no light of -day penetrated this haunted dungeon home; but in the far corner, opposite -me, an immense chimney and fire-place illumined with a blaze of fire -light the singular apartment; and, sitting before the fire, her back -toward us, was a strange form crouching on the floor of the cavern: its -gray hair was matted, and hung straggling down its back,—and it wore a -long black garment, something like the gown of a priest; every instant -one of its thin, skeleton-like hands, or rather claws, was projected -from its lap, depositing something (I could not tell what) in a large -vessel hanging over the flame,—so gathered up and misshapen was the -form, I could not distinguish whether it was man, woman, or beast;—the -appearance of the place, and this _outré_ figure, forcibly reminded me of -my childhood, and the old woman I called Granny. Blanche had turned pale -as a ghost from fear, and I regretted having come. - -The figure did not at first perceive us; and we had stood some minutes -unobserved spectators of its singular operations, when, pausing, it -turned its head, and I beheld a human face,—but so wild, so wizard-like, -it scarcely resembled a woman’s countenance. She rose to her feet, and -confronted us. She was tall in stature, and the long, straight robe -added to her height. She regarded us with a piercing glance, and then -beckoned our approach. - -“Be seated,” said she, pointing to two stools near her; “you have come to -consult me. I knew I should have visiters this evening; the signs said -it.” - -“We had some difficulty in finding you,” I observed; “your home is so -secluded.” - -“So much the better,—it keeps fools from troubling me,” was the sharp -reply. As she spoke, she stepped toward a dark corner of the cave, and -after stooping, and apparently feeling about a moment, came back with a -bottle, filled with water, in her hand. She resumed her position on the -floor before the fire, and then abruptly demanded,— - -“Which will learn their fate first?” - -“Blanche, do you.” - -“Oh, no, dear; let her tell you first, and then I will try,” answered -Blanche, falteringly. - -“Well, then, good mother, tell mine.” - -She turned the bottle of water slowly head downwards; then raising it, -apparently contemplating something she saw in the liquid, shook her head, -and said,— - -“A short lived happiness; then clouds, darkness, and sadness await you; -yet out of this sadness shall come a lasting, quiet joy; durable, because -it shall be based on proper feelings; and love shall crown all, in future -years.” - -“But, mother, your words are mysterious, incomprehensible to me. Pray -tell me in plain language what awaits me. I cannot understand your -symbols.” - -“I have said all I can say; recollect my words,—their meaning will be -clear as sunlight, when they shall be verified in times to come. Now -you,” to Blanche. Again the bottle was reversed, and she pored over its -hidden meaning. - -“A short but bright career; an ill-fated love; a sudden and violent -death, and a solitary grave;—this your fate,” and she glared at Blanche -with those wild eyes. - -I noticed the sudden start of surprise, and glowing blush which -overspread the face of my friend at these words. Had she in secret -conceived an “ill-fated love?” or was it the unexpectedness of the -prophecy caused that start? - -“Is my destiny then so sad;—is there nothing brighter in store for -me;—are none of my fair visions to be realized?” said she, pensively. - -I placed but little reliance on what she said, considering it the -mummery and trick of her trade; but Blanche, although she had expressed -incredulity on the subject of fortune-telling, for the moment seemed -saddened by the prophecy. Wishing to divert her mind from the subject, I -began talking to the old woman. - -“Have you lived here long, mother?” - -“Eighteen summers have been and gone since I first came here.” - -“You have seen, then, many changes in the city during that time.” - -“Yes, many have been born, and many have died since eighteen years ago.” - -“And do you like to live in this old damp cavern? could you not find a -better home?” - -“No; I desire no better home than a cave among the rocks nature made, and -it is not for me or any other mortal to disdain her works. I have been as -happy here as I should have been in a fine house.” - -“Have you many visiters?” - -“Not as many as I used to have. I am growing old and dull, and those who -have their fortunes told generally go for amusement and ridicule; and now -that age and disease have made me severe and grave, they seek others who -can entertain them better.” - -I was about to propose other questions, but observing that Blanche had -gone to the entrance, and was beckoning me, I placed a gold piece in the -woman’s hand, and joined her. Acte followed me to the door of the rock. - -“I shall see you again, I feel I shall. At some future day you will find -me a true prophet, although now you disbelieve my words. Farewell to both -of you.” - -We descended the hill whence we came; Blanche thoughtful and depressed, -and I somewhat influenced by Acte’s mysterious predictions. The shadows -of evening gathered round us as we entered the fashionable street, -Toledo, now thronged with the beauty and fashion of Naples, enjoying -their daily rides, drives, and promenades, along the beautiful shores of -the bay. - -As we walked along the street toward our own home, ourselves observing -and observed, an elegant English phæton, driven by a footman, in blue -and orange, and occupied by a young man, lovely as an angel, indolently -lolling against its cushions, came gliding by. As it passed us, the -gentleman stared long at Blanche, and then bowed; her face flushed to -crimson, as she returned the salutation. I noticed also he leaned out of -the carriage, and looked after her. - -“What a splendid looking man,” I involuntarily exclaimed; “who is he?” - -“The Lord of Glenfells; a Scottish nobleman. I saw him at Munich,” -answered she, hesitatingly. - -“Are you well acquainted with him?” - -“Yes, he has visited me.” - -“Oh, is he not handsome!” - -“Yes, very; I always thought him fine looking.” - -Blanche evidently did not wish to speak further about him; and with that -strange intuition with which woman divines woman, I surmised that it was -from something of a secret partiality. - -Madame Bonni was waiting tea when we reached home. - -“My two nightingales, where have you been to? I have been waiting an -hour for you; and the French manager has called to see you. He stayed -sometime, but finding you did not come, went away, saying he should call -in the morning. He has something particular to say to you.” - -“We have been taking a long walk toward Posillippo and Virgil’s tomb, -which detained us longer than we had intended,” said I, not wishing to -tell her our real adventure. - -“Ah! have you? Did you go within it?—is it not an interesting sight?” - -“No, we did not extend our walk so far as to reach it; but some day, -soon, I intend visiting it for that purpose.” - -My thoughts reverted to Monsieur de Serval, and wondering and wishing he -were back again with me, I spent the evening in my room, leaving Blanche -to entertain our kind hostess. - -When alone, I always thought of my lover, as lovers generally do, I -believe. I admired and loved him, but this love was so sudden, so -incomprehensible;—men seldom court women on the instant of acquaintance, -propose and marry them, especially actresses. Then I recalled what -Madame Bonni and rumor had said of his character; his extravagance and -bad conduct: but then had he not frankly, and with sincere contrition, -admitted his faults, and promised amendment in future? What could be -sadder, more touching than that history itself? related so charmingly, -in his graceful way. His childhood had been soured by a bold, bad woman, -and subsequently thrown upon the sea of life, like a bark without a pilot -or rudder to steer it. Temptations, in their most attractive forms, had -beset him, and he had done only as other men would have done, not even -as bad as that. Much allowance should be made for his youth and beauty, -and lonely position in life. But my excuses for my lover were endless. I -cannot follow them all. When love amounts to infatuation, it is useless -to reason; and it was foolish for me to attempt it. I wished he were with -me;—I counted the hours and days as they passed. - -The other gentlemen who visited me, no longer pleased me. I did not want -to see them;—their society only bored me. I usually deserted the parlor, -leaving Blanche to do the honors, while I nursed my reveries alone; and -she, so gentle and amiable, was willing to do anything to oblige another, -and always anticipated and gratified my wishes,—even my strangest whims. - -The next morning after our visit to Acte, we were summoned to the -parlor to see the manager. We found that worthy individual intently -engaged in self-admiration of his own person, reflected in one of the -long mirrors. He started on perceiving that _we_ had discovered _him_ -in this interesting employment, which might seem to indicate, perhaps, -some slight vanity, (a foolish quality, however, never possessed by the -sterner and wiser sex!) Advancing toward us on tip-toe, he smilingly paid -the salutations of the day, and then said: - -“Mesdemoiselles, the object of my visit is to inform you, that a new -opera has been written by a distinguished musician of this city, and I -wish to secure your services for its representation. I wish to produce -it within a fortnight; new scenery and costumes have been added to the -Opera house, and everything which can add to the splendor of effect, I -intend shall be done; may I hope to have the co-operation of the two -nightingales?” he bowed and chasseed before us. - -“What is the name of the new opera, Monsieur?” I inquired. - -“It is called Ajesha, or the Maid of Kars, a magnificent production of -genius; the plot is romantic and beautiful, the music divine; some of the -songs are exquisite. Stay, I will sing you one of the men’s, that you may -form something of an opinion about it.” - -He seated himself at the piano and sang a spirited, sweet thing, -beginning with, ‘My home is on the storm-bound deep.’ We listened -intently, and admired it. - -“That is one of the gems of the opera, and there are many others equally -beautiful; some of the women’s songs are exquisite, and you, fair ladies, -I know will do them justice. I wish to bring it out within two weeks. In -the course of that time the royal family return to the city, and will -grace the theatre with their presence; may I consider your services -engaged, Mesdemoiselles?” - -“Blanche is free to decide for herself, Monsieur,” I replied; “but for -me, my guardian must decide.” - -“Ah, yes, but Belmont of course will be perfectly willing. I shall see -him this morning and ask him, but you Mademoiselle Ricorsi, you are -independent and can choose for yourself,—will you be the Ajesha?” - -“I have never yet played in Naples; you know my terms, monsieur; are you -willing to pay me what I have been in the habit of receiving at Munich?” - -“Of course, Mademoiselle, your price is my price.” - -“Then I shall be happy to sing, monsieur.” - -“All is agreed then, and I shall be happy to see you at rehearsal to -morrow, ladies, when we will run through the opera, and cast your parts,” -and the polite Frenchman bowed himself out of our presence. - -I omit the rehearsals, the confusion of preparation, and getting ready -the costumes for the occasion, and pass to the night when this beautiful -opera was produced for the first time on the Neapolitan boards. - -It was a tragedy; the plot is a singular one: Ajesha, the Maid of Kars, -is a Circassian, as her name denotes; she is sold into slavery from her -native land, and carried to the town of Kars, where she becomes the -property of a Turkish Emir; he loves her intensely, and of course is most -intensely jealous. She, a beautiful, spiritual creature, does not love -this illiterate Turk, distinguished for nothing, but his immense wealth -and brutality. - -A noble and handsome Englishman is taken prisoner by this Turkish -commander, the English and Turks then being at war; he is imprisoned in -a house opposite the harem of Ajesha; news of his youth and beauty is -brought to the lady; he becomes ill from the severity of his treatment, -and Ajesha, in the disguise of a page, visits, and nurses him. The -consequence is, they conceive a mutual and desperate love for each other. - -At first their meetings are undetected by the jealous Mussulman, but -Ajesha dreading future discovery, appoints the cemetery, the city of the -silent, as their rendezvous. A treacherous slave betrays her confidence -to the Emir; he surprises them one evening, and stabs her in the arms of -her lover; then attempting to punish the Englishman, he himself is killed -by the enraged lover, and dies by the side of his fair slave. - -This is the outline, as well as I remember it, of one of the most -exquisite things I ever saw performed. The character of Nina I was cast -for, voluntarily resigning the principal character in favor of my friend; -and oh, how beautiful, beyond the power of description, did she look the -night she played it. - -She first makes her appearance in the Circassian costume, when she is -sold from the home of infancy, and carried to a strange land; and the -dress Blanche wore, was of white silk, ornamented with gold lama lace; a -turban of tissue, spangled with gold stars, surmounted her flaxen curls -waving on her shoulders; the graceful trousers gathered into a gold -bandelette at the ancle, exposed fully to view her tiny feet, encased in -their little Circassian slippers. The affectionate, sad farewell to her -parents and young acquaintances, and the song she sings, ‘My native land, -farewell,’ shook the house with applause. Every one had heard of, but -none had yet seen the Munich nightingale; curiosity had been on the alert -for some time, to witness our combined appearance, and glancing out from -the side scenes I observed the royal box occupied, and the queen leaning -forward with an air of rapt attention. - -I personated the friend and companion of Ajesha. Nina accompanies her -into captivity, but is finally redeemed by her friends, and returns -home. The music of the farewell scene between Ajesha and Nina, was very -sweet; when they bid each other adieu, and sing, ‘We have been friends -together in sunlight and in tears;’ and we mutually felt indeed we had -been friends together. The queen enthusiastically applauded, clapping -her hands like a girl; and bouquets were promiscuously showered upon us -from all parts of the house: two wreaths were cast at our feet by the -king and queen. The coincidence struck me, it was on a similar occasion, -the night of my debut in that theatre, that the wreath had been thrown -me; not by royalty, but by one whose gemmed, singular face had strangely -haunted me since, and as we both uplifted our eyes to the royal box, who -should I see gazing on me behind their majesties, but the same face, the -same large liquid eyes that had magnetised mine two months before. My -astonishment was so great, I could scarcely recollect myself enough to -step backward as the heavy drop curtain fell. - -Who could that man be accompanying the royal family? and apparently on -familiar terms with them. I could not doubt it was the very same one, the -donor of the diamonded wreath, those beautiful flowers I had preserved -for so many days with so much care, who seemed to regard me with an air -of so much interest. - -I had no time for reflection, Monsieur Belmont hurried us to our -dressing-rooms, to dress for the palace scene, when Ajesha and Nina are -first presented to the Emir. - -I could not help mentally contrasting the absurd difference between -the acting on the stage, and the motley confusion behind the scenes; -the heaps of stage furniture, costume, old scenery, the scene shifters -running hither and thither, black mutes, soldiers, noblemen, the women of -the harem, in the most charming stage of negligee, nearly approaching to -that of genuine nature, and above all other tones, I heard those of the -worthy manager, who was directing the men how to arrange the grand salon -de reception, into which we were to be carried in close litters. - -“Here,” shouted he, “make haste; what are you all about? where’s the dias -for the salon? place it here, spread out the carpet; now, is that done? -arrange yourselves in a row behind the throne, to the guards; light the -lamps; get the instruments of music.” - -I entered the little room, where I dressed amid his reiterated -injunctions and commands to the assembled court. - -What an empty show, thought I, as I hastily attired myself in the rose -colored satin petticoat, and black velvet boddice, and placed a waving -plume of white feathers in my hair. - -The Count Godolpho, an old _roué_ and _habitué_ of the “scenes” for years -back, stopped me with a fine compliment, as I was getting into the veiled -litter by the side of Blanche. - -“What! Mademoiselle Sfonza, is it you? fair as a star-lit nymph of -air!” This was a poetical fancy of his own: I never met with the like -expression in print. “Our pet child of song, stay a moment, let me look -at you.” - -“I cannot now, Marquis, indeed, see they wait our entry.” - -“Where then can I see you, wilful fay? one never gets a sight of you -except at the play: then only for an instant, and you are gone; where do -you live?” - -“On earth now, in heaven I hope some day,” I smartly answered,—making -a faint attempt at wit, to rid myself of this worn out old coxcomb, as -I had no wish or intention to receive his visits; and the black mutes -raising the litter, we were borne past him on the stage. - -Although conscious it was a mere show, still in the last act, the death -scene of Ajesha and her lover, the touching pathos of Blanche’s acting, -her dreamy, etherial tones, melted me to tears; and I almost cheated -myself into the delusion that it was reality. Her death song, ‘Beloved, I -die,’ seemed indeed like the last breathings of a dying spirit, and oh, -merciful heaven, was it not prophetic of her future fate? - -When the curtain fell on the last act, we were loudly called for, and our -teacher, proudly elated at this great triumph, led us before the curtain, -where we made our curtesies, kissed hands to the audience and passed off. - -The morning papers were filled with praises of our performance, and the -plot, music, and libretto of the new opera. I laughed myself to sleep -that night when I thought of the discomfiture of the count, and his -absurd manner; then again, unconsciously and mysteriously, my thoughts -reverted to the gentleman I had seen in the royal box—you will think, -perhaps, I did not love my affianced lover, since my attention and -thoughts could be so easily distracted to another, but in truth I did; -I loved him with my whole soul; every wish, every thought was his; this -interest in a stranger, a casual spectator of my performance, was not -love, nor curiosity; it was a prophetic, a magnetic attraction, a feeling -that seemed to tell that in future—but no matter, I will no longer -digress; let me strictly adhere to the tenor of my tale. - -Blanche had long before fully compensated monsieur for his care of her -childhood, and presented him beside with a handsome sum of money. Her -industry had accumulated quite a small fortune, within the four years she -had been performing for herself; the receipts of our joint acting each -night were enormous, and Monsieur Belmont had no reason to regret his -patronage of the Viennese beggar girl. - -He often said, himself, that we three poor girls had gained him more -money and celebrity than any pupils he ever had. As I said in the -beginning of my memoir, there is always a _motive_ in these apparently -beneficent actions. His motive was to feed, clothe, and educate us -brilliantly for the stage; for this purpose it was much better to select -girls from the lowest walks of life, friendless, uncared-for ones, -unprotected and unprovided for, over whom he could have absolute control. -True, he had saved us from starvation, but then he had realized a fortune -from our exertions, and I was anxious to absolve myself from my debt of -gratitude and obligation, and become mistress of my own actions, which -every sensible rational being desires and ought to be. - -My teacher knew nothing of my secret engagement. I had not told him, and -wondered, when told, what he would say and think of it. Of course he -would be astonished at its suddenness, and, in a worldly point of view, -at the condescension of Monsieur de Serval. I did not even know that -he would give his consent, as he had a right to command my services. I -trusted, however, to his uniform kindness to me, to arrange that matter. -I felt sure he would not force me to do any thing I did not wish to do; -that he would allow me to discontinue my theatrical career if I felt so -inclined. - -We were visited daily by many of the fashionable men of Naples; we were -escorted to and from the theatre by numerous beaux, and the gay cavaliers -vied with each other in their attentions; yet the compliments, the -civilities paid to actresses, are of a different tone to those rendered -to ladies of private life. There is a tone to all expression, a gradation -to every human feeling; there is an imperceptible something in expression -which we can feel but cannot describe; and it was this something that I -felt, but could not describe, when I regarded the opposite of attentions -to a lady of rank, and compliments to an actress. - -I endeavored to console myself for all regrets in philosophy, but -sometimes _feeling_ triumphed over even that, stoical as I thought -myself. Sometimes attributing every thing to fate, sometimes believing in -chance, I surrendered myself to the current of life’s troublous stream, -and blindly glided on. - -Among other visiters to the house, there came the beautiful Lord of -Glenfells. I say beautiful, because handsome, manly, fine-looking, are -not terms to express his ideal, his exquisite, shadowy, captivating -loveliness. He often visited Blanche. I never obtruded on their -interviews; and, save the ordinary civilities of etiquette, never had any -acquaintance with him; yet, though I saw him frequently, the impression -of his personal attractions ever seemed new to me. I know not if he were -intelligent or otherwise. I once or twice spoke of him to her, but the -embarrassment and rosy blush told of interested feeling, and perceiving -she did not wish to converse about him, I ever afterwards waived the -subject. - -Busy gossiping tongues, however, with which the world is filled, who make -it their business to attend to every body’s but their own, reported him -as a man of immense wealth, travelling for amusement, or pleasure, which -with the rich, and great, and fashionable, means the same thing. This was -all I gathered concerning him; yet from what I saw of him, I considered -him a man of dangerous attractions; artful, without appearing to be -so, possessing a mournful tenderness, an abandon of manner, peculiarly -attractive to a woman like Blanche. Though younger, I was superior in -perception of the realities of life. I was not so dreamy, perhaps not so -pure as she, my embodied concentration of the great, the beautiful, the -good. God bless her! Let me not dilate upon that purity, that goodness. I -feel my praise is inadequate to her merits; my commendations cannot add -to the halo of immortality that surrounds her in the Elysian shades. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -The three weeks’ absence of Monsieur de Serval, was occupied in -fulfilling our engagement in Ajesha, which was performed twenty nights, -and obtained great popularity for itself and glorious fame for us. Upon -the return of my lover, my comet-like career was to terminate into -marriage and retirement into private life. Blanche still adhered to her -resolution of remaining unmarried, though many good offers had been made -her; and of the opinions of Inez in that particular, we had been duly -informed by a letter from herself, describing her happiness, and pleasant -home, and husband’s love. - -The prophecy of old Acte lingered in my mind and constantly haunted me, -and Blanche also seemed painfully impressed by her words. I observed -for some days before M. de Serval’s return, that she would sit for -hours—often all day—in absent thought, noticing no one, answering no -one, if spoken to. Wondering at this neglect of my kindness in her, -who had always from childhood manifested so much attachment to me, I -felt a reproach to this coolness rise to my lips; but when I glanced at -that calm, sweet face, and saw the pre-occupation of sad thought, all -anger vanished, and quietly coinciding with her wish, I left her to her -meditations. - -The night before the day on which my lover returned, I sought my pillow -early; but sleep fled my eager embrace. Restlessly I tossed: I could not -rest. Madame Bonni had a library of select works fitted up in a little -room on the ground floor; I remembered this, and wanting to amuse me -till repose should come, I arose, slipped on an opera-cloak of blue -satin, which happened to be lying near the bed, and thrusting my feet -in slippers, descended the stairs: all the household were retired. I -got my book from the library, and was about returning, when passing -the door which led into the garden, at that late hour I was surprised -to see it open. The resplendent moonlight streamed brightly through, -disclosing my favorite seat beneath the blooming Acacia and those beds -of roses so odorous, and that pretty garden looked so inviting, that I -stepped out in the moonlight and looked around. All nature was hushed to -repose,—that delightful calm which, unlike death, tells of prostrated -strength presently to be revived. As I stood upon the porch, gazing -vacantly around, voices struck my ear. Who could be there at that late -hour? I thought of robbers, and trembled with fear. A moment’s listening -re-assured me: it was a woman’s sweet tones I heard, and then those of a -man in reply. - -Far down the gravel-walk, at the extreme end of the garden—by the margin -of a little fountain which had once played there, but whose source was -now neglected and obstructed by weeds and stones—I thought I perceived -two forms. Determined to ascertain who and what they were, I stole -noiselessly down the walk, to the shade of my favorite tree, which now -cast its deep shadow far down the way, and concealing myself behind the -broad trunk, peeped from around it, and beheld, to my astonishment, Lord -Glenfells and Blanche! - -I saw her leaning on his full chest, her arms encircling his neck, her -little mouth united to his, her soft eyes fixed on his, and he was gazing -into hers with the same fondness—only more animal passion added to it. -Tears fell like pearly dew from her eyes, and I saw him pause, as he -spoke, and wipe them away with his small hand. I listened to hear their -voices speak again, unable to explain to myself this singular scene. - -“Is not love the same? Can an empty ceremony—said over two lovers—render -more binding the greatest, best, and noblest sentiment of our nature. -Say, Blanche!—my beautiful one, my ocean pearl!—could the words of the -matrimonial service make me more constant,—make me love you more than I -now do? You, my heart’s worship, my idol! shall I not give you my whole -soul; and what more can I do? If an unhallowed, a conventional form into -which I was persuaded—forced; if that wretched link of earth binds me, -in earthly form, to another,—what matters it? Consider, love, it is the -same, so long as we are constant to our attachment: that constitutes the -perfidy. Oh! listen not to the world’s prudence—to the cold calculations -of a prudish moral. Let feeling usurp its place, and that I know will -triumph—will plead my cause. Come with me this night—now; beneath the -light of yonder bright silver. We will seek some other land, or a distant -part of this country, where your fault—if that can be called fault which -consumates my bliss—will be unknown, unheard of; and we will live in -blest harmony and love. Come, dearest; come?” - -“No, no!” and her voice was choked by tears. “My love is all wrong: it is -unhallowed. You are a married man. If I fly with you, disgrace follows -me: you have a wife in England: you must forget me, and I, you. Even were -you free, would you marry me? Consider your rank, and _I_ an actress.” - -“Blanche, you mean not what you say, when you tell me to forget you. Do -you really wish me to return to England to my dull wife—ten years my -senior—and the stupidity of home—a home like that? Do you really wish it? -If so,—farewell.” - -He made a movement to turn away; but she clung still closer to his bosom, -and buried her head there. - -“Cruel! oh, cruel! I do not want you to go.” - -“Consent, then, to go with me. Come now, this moment? I will get a -carriage, and morning light shall find us far away. Decide, Blanche, -between my loss and my happiness. No answer? Blanche, are you dreaming, -love?” - -“No; I was thinking of Genevra, my faithful friend. What will she think -of my conduct! How mysterious it will seem to her: how ungrateful! but I -love her,—oh, so dearly! She is the only woman who ever loved me, and I -return her feelings with usury, too. Let me at least run up to her room, -and, as she sleeps, kiss her farewell. I feel, for the last time, and -here,—while the moon shines so bright above—while I consent to forfeit, -for your sake, my good name, inviolate till this moment,—here let me -gaze upon those starry spheres, and call down upon her young head their -resplendent blessings. Oh, Heavenly Spirit! preserve her as she now -is—beautiful and pure as the lily of the valley. Preserve her from that -error of the heart which I now commit, which leads me to sin—knowing -that sin. Grant that, in some future state, our souls may meet—may hold -communion with each other, and be conscious of affinity. Holy influences -of heaven! spirit of night and air! grant my prayer.” - -I saw her sink upon her knees, clasp her hands on her white neck, and -fix her eyes on the starry firmament. Thus she remained a moment, in a -breathless ecstacy of thought, when Lord Glenfells gently raised her, and -once more folded her to his bosom. - -“Why this tumult of passion, dearest? What agitates you so?” - -“Get a carriage: bring it round to the garden-gate: I shall soon be ready -for you. Meanwhile, let me go and kiss her good by?” - -I saw her break away from his fond arms; and, quick as thought, I -retreated to my chamber, unobserved as I had come. I would not for worlds -that she should have known that I had overheard her. I got into bed -again, and closed my eyes. She passed my door, and ascended to her own -room. Her hasty steps sounded overhead for some time,—hurriedly packing -up, I suppose,—then she again descended, and paused at my door. - -The lock turned, and her sylph-like form glided to my bed side. She -stooped over me—imagining I slept—and smoothed my hair beneath my cap -with her tiny hand; then she kissed my forehead, and murmured,— - -“Genevra! dear Genevra! dear friend! when you awake in the morning you -will seek me, but find me not: perhaps you may miss me for a little -while,—may sometimes think of me with love and kindness: I hope so. I go -to a new life—the life of love! I go to accomplish my destiny.” - -Once again she kissed me, then glided from the room. I heard her tell -Lord Glenfells to bring the carriage to the garden-gate. My room looked -on the street. I rose again from bed, and directed my steps to a little -back room, near my own, which overlooked this gate. I wanted to see her -go, though she knew not I was a witness of that departure. Her behaviour -was an enigma I could not solve, and the reasons for which ever remained -a mystery. If she was determined to become the associate of this man, -why not go to him in broad daylight: what prevented her? She was her own -mistress: no one did, or had the right to control her. She had long ago -emancipated herself from her teacher’s guardianship; what, then, was the -reason of this secret flight? I knew not then: I know not now. - -I had stood watching at the window of the room for some time, when I -saw Lord Glenfells and Blanche emerge from the shadow of the porch, and -pass through the gate; he put her in the landau, saw the baggage placed -behind; seated himself by her, and, like lightning, they vanished from my -sight. - - * * * * * - -The amazement of our hostess can better be imagined than described, when, -on going to her room next day, she found it unoccupied—the stage and -personal wardrobe of its fair proprietress gone also: and whither had she -taken her flight? how strange the gifted child of song should yield to -a momentary infatuation; and, listening to impulse, forgetting reason, -abandon herself to such a life: what demon possessed her? - -I had expected a violent storm on the part of M. Belmont; but, to my -astonishment, he received my recital of the night’s adventure with -perfect indifference: and remarked, with imperturbable phlegm, that “it -was her own affair; she ought to know best what she was about.” I had -expected some surprise, sorrow, or at least an emotion of some sort; but -I forgot that my teacher had been hardened in the ways of the world; and -births, deaths, marriages, seductions, and every other evil thing, was a -matter of course to him. He always maintained that every sensible person -should be the best judge of their own conduct: like a true Frenchman, he -did as he pleased, and allowed every one else to do the same, unmolested, -undisturbed by criticism or advice. - -After breakfast, Madame Bonni and I sat together speculating and -mystifying about Blanche’s strange behaviour: the problem, however, could -not be solved by us. It was past elucidation, and the more we talked, -the farther we got from the point—the motive of action. While we were -discussing, I was called away; my lover had returned. - -I found him standing on his feet, hat in hand, facing the door, where -I entered—his face calm and happy in expression—and it warmed and -brightened when I came towards him; catching my hands in his, he pressed -them fervently, and, kissing me, asked, - -“Have you missed me, darling?” - -“Oh! very much, dear Rinaldo.” - -“And I have been dreaming of you during my whole journey; I scarcely -had sense enough left from reverie to attend to my business, and I have -hurried back, leaving it half incomplete, to be arranged by lawyers.” - -“But where is it you have been to, dearest?” - -“Genoa and the frontier of Austria: an estate left me I was in danger of -losing, through the perfidy of relations; but, thank heaven! their malice -is defeated, and I am safe: now, love, come sit here by me on this sofa, -and tell me all you have been doing. I left the night Somnambula was to -be performed: tell me about it; did it succeed?” - -I described the opera, and singing: its success, and subsequently the -disappearance of Blanche with Lord Glenfells, the night before. - -“Gone with Lord Glenfells! what an unwise action: but who is he?” - -“A gay young Englishman, travelling on the continent for amusement; -dear Blanche, who would have dreamed, after all the temptations she has -evaded, who would have thought she would have acted thus?” - -“No one in truth; it is very strange: your friend appeared so gentle, -so indifferent to men’s society, and fond of solitude; of all women, I -should have thought her the very last one to commit so rash an action.” - -“Blanche is one of those strange, impulsive beings, who, if you can only -thoroughly warm and interest, will go all lengths to love and please -you. Lord Glenfells has acquired a great influence over her, and she has -consented to forego respectability, society, everything for him. Oh, how -I wish she had not done so; how I regret her loss.” - -“She may repent this imprudence some day, and return to propriety; -and you, do not grieve about her; summon your stoical philosophy, and -practice your favorite aphorism. Never regret that which is past.” - -“Yes, I know I ought to practice my precepts: philosophy triumphs over -past and future ills, but present troubles overmaster philosophy.” - -“True, love: a wise remark.” - -“We were engaged to sing five nights yet, to complete our engagement; now -she is flown, I shall have to finish alone,” I observed, absently; for, -notwithstanding my joy at seeing my lover again, my thoughts reverted to -the absent Blanche. - -Monsieur de Serval drew me gently toward him, as he sat upon the sofa. - -“Come hither dearest, come sit close by me, your presumptive and future -lawful protector; do not look so sad; cheer up, and let us talk of -happiness and love, and delightful scenes, and conversations, all in -store for us in times to come.” - -But I could not feel my usual cheerfulness, even for _his_ sake, and -after a slight conversation he went away, and I retired to my own room -and my solitude; and then I wept for Blanche’s loss, and Blanche’s shame. - -Nothing is sooner dried than a tear; and, as de Serval had said, my -regrets could not restore her, could not undo her behaviour; and the -deprivation of her sweet society, made me fonder still (if that could be) -of that of Monsieur de Serval; my whole heart now exclusively centered in -him. I performed my last engagement on the Neapolitan boards, and bade -adieu to the distinguished patronage of royalty, and the humble, yet -heartfelt admiration of the people. The journals doled forth newspaper -sentiment and lamentations at the dramatic loss; and private circles -wondered at my good fortune. For myself I did not think whether it was -good fortune or not. I only knew, I only thought I loved him, and was -willing to go any where, do anything, make any sacrifice for him. I -will not describe the few weeks of courtship that intervened before my -marriage; such scenes can only be felt, be experienced, they cannot be -told; they are sad, yet sweet episodes in my memory, and though painful -to recur to, yet mentally I treasure them, for that was my _first_ love. - -Signor, I married him; my wedding was simple, and celebrated with but -little display; his noble friend, the Countess Bramonti honored it with -her distinguished presence; and my guardian, teacher, and benefactor, -Monsieur Belmont, gave me away. I was united to him in the pretty church -of Sacre Cœur, where, some weeks before I had attended mass with Madame -Bonni; it was filled with spectators, every one wishing to see the new -singer married; and my kind hostess kissed me at the conclusion of the -ceremony, and wished me happiness, with tears in her eyes, and smiles on -her lips. - -“May many blissful days and years be thine, fair girl,” said the countess -in her deep tones, as she swept her majestic form toward me, and clasped -me in her arms; “may you love each other, and in that love be happy.” - -Monsieur Belmont conducted me to the carriage, which was to bear me -away to my future home, in a valley, amid the cloud-capt Appenines. -Immediately on arrival there, I promised to write to him, and regularly -maintain a correspondence. My husband, (how strange the word sounded -to my ears,) joined me, and I was whirled away from the scene of my -short-lived, yet brilliant triumphs. - -Our journey to his mountain home occupied two days; and during the time -my husband exhibited a frenzy of emotion, which terrified more than it -pleased me. But the ways and loves of men were then Isiac mysteries -to me, and you know their translation of the word love, is rendered -differently to ours. - -On the evening of the second day of our travel, he told me we were -approaching the “Chateau of the Ravine,” for that was the traditionary -name of the castle. The scenery was sublime, and lost in contemplation -and thought, reposing my head on his shoulder, I silently admired it. - -Stupendous rocks, rising perpendicularly in the air, to an immense -height, faced the smooth road on either side for some distance; as these -declined away, a broad vista of the dark blue mountains far in distance, -and a beautiful level plain, such as I had seen when first I came to -Naples, met my gaze. Like a panorama these swiftly disappeared, and we -entered on a broken chain of the Appenines themselves; the carriage -slowly wound round and round the upward ascent of the rocky pass, barely -wide enough to allow the vehicle room to roll along; then we descended -as rapidly as we had come up, and thus continued on for some miles, when -the ridge of mountains suddenly terminated, and I looked down from the -great height on which we stood, and beheld at my feet the ravine, and in -the midst of it, presenting an imposing appearance of grandeur and decay, -the chateau. It had been built, my husband said, in the ancient times of -feudal splendor, but its successive possessors, either for want of means -or inclination, had suffered it to moulder away, as time, year after -year, diminished its magnificence. He said he intended refitting it, and -renovating the antique style, and I was pleased to hear the promise that -so fine a structure should be rescued from decay. - -A few minutes brought us to the gates, which were thrown wide open to -receive us, and the carriage rumbled into the great court-yard. M. de -Serval alighted, lifted me out, and leaning on his arm, I ascended a -marble staircase, and entered a pretty salon, tastefully furnished, where -I sat down, quite wearied by fatigue. He left the room for a moment, to -order lights and supper to be prepared, for twilight was stealing over -us, and leaning back on the couch, I languidly closed my eyes, and was -almost dropt asleep, when a heavy footstep startled me; looking up, I saw -standing before me, and fixedly looking at me, an old woman; there was -nothing strange in the simple fact of her being old, for old women are -plentiful as stars; but this one was peculiarly singular in appearance; -she wore a scarlet woollen petticoat, black stockings, and a little cap -of green; her long, thick, and coarse black hair, fell below her waist in -tangled braids; her eyes were piercing in expression, and they seemed to -sparkle and glance fire as she fixedly stared at me. She appeared to be -beating time to her own thoughts, for she repeatedly struck her breast -with her right hand. Perceiving that I saw her, she curtesied, and in a -lofty tone said, - -“Welcome to your home, fair mistress; welcome to the ‘Chateau of the -Ravine.’ - -“Do you belong to the household of Monsieur de Serval?” I asked, -strangely impressed by her manner and appearance. - -“Yes, madame: I came here a long time ago, in the service of the first -lady.” - -“The first lady! who was she?” - -“You know, madame, of course, the Lady Isodore, Monsieur’s—” - -Abruptly she paused; and, turning, I saw my husband’s stern gaze fastened -on her: she cowered beneath that look; and well she might, for even I -could not have met it unabashed. - -“Pasiphae, you can go; your young mistress is tired; she needs repose -after her long travel.” - -Silently she retreated. - -“Who is that old woman, dearest? her strange ways surprised me.” - -“An old domestic I have retained in my service, though almost useless; -come Genevra, your chamber is prepared, and supper arranged in the -banqueting hall.” - -Thither we went: the apartment was magnificent, and one of the tables set -with dainties that might have delighted an epicure; the lamps, shrined -in vases of alabaster, shed a sweet, soft light; the hush of stillness -and repose reigned within and without; and, more than all, my husband’s -accents of tenderness, and the tumult of love that had usurped the place -of gentler emotions in my breast, have impressed that scene in indelible -traits on my memory. - -After supper we returned to the salon, and entertained ourselves, till -the clock struck the hour for retiring, with a conversation in which -_words_ had all to do, not thoughts: _they_ were differently employed. - -Then, at ten o’clock, we retired to our bedchamber; the same old woman -stood at the door of the room as I entered: an ominous smile sat on her -lips; she opened her mouth, as if to speak; but, perceiving my husband -close behind me, she went away without expressing the thoughts which -seemed to tremble on the point of utterance. - -Then, when the door closed behind us, suffocated with joy, we fell into -each other’s arms—let me draw a veil over that night, and pass to other -scenes. - - * * * * * - -I wish I could make you realize the ecstatic rhapsody in those first days -of wedded love: such emotions as I experienced one can only experience -once in a lifetime: for the novelty wears away; they also disappear. -I wish I could make you feel as I felt, as we roved together, like -children, hand in hand, through those flowery glades, and through the -blooming gardens of this old castle—sometimes reading, sometimes talking, -always loving, and picturing a continued increase of happiness, and -everlasting bliss. - -Alas! poor frail human nature! Poor frail, inconstant mortals! What a -strange mockery does it not seem to our own hearts to look back after -years have changed these delusions of fancy, and stripped them of their -false lustre; what a mockery does it not seem to think over what we once -thought—and see the folly of dreaming of affections unaltered, and hearts -that never could grow cold? - -Old Pasiphae was my attendant. I preferred her to another, a younger -girl, who had come to the castle to engage in my service. She was a -very odd woman, and strongly infected with the popular superstitions of -that section of the country. She was avoided by the other domestics as -a half lunatic: for low, ignorant, or vulgar minds, always attribute -eccentricity of mind or manner to mental perturbation; and, surely, the -wise have every inducement to become insane, if they pay attention or -depend for happiness on the stupid fools of which the greater portion of -mankind are composed. - -The chateau was built with two wings each side of the main building: the -right wing was always closed, bolted and barred. I had been married two -months, when curiosity induced me, one day, to ask Monsieur de Serval -the reason why that part of the mansion was unopened, unoccupied, and -neglected. He answered carelessly, that the castle was so large, he had -not thought it necessary to refit that side of it;—it was more decayed -than the rest. This reply satisfied me for the moment, but woman’s -curiosity was on the alert, and I wished, I scarce know why, to see the -interior of that gloomy side of the chateau. - -Six months had glided swiftly on since my marriage. Oh, days of hope! oh, -hours of happiness! with what mournful pleasure do I retrace your flight! -and with what lingering sadness detail the strange contrast which time -developed all too quickly to my wondering eyes! - -I had heard several times from my worthy teacher. No tidings had reached -him of Blanche. He had heard nothing; knew not if she were dead or alive. -This distressed me, even amid my own joy. Madame Bonni was well, and -often sent her love; and the theatrical world, they said, still mourned -my irreparable loss;—the journals still dwelt upon my merits. - -It was at this moment of time that Rinaldo left me for three days, for -a hunting party, to come off some fifty miles from the castle. He bade -me farewell with great tenderness, and departed. This was a favorable -opportunity, I thought, for the execution of my long-cherished project of -gaining admission to the closed and, I imagined, haunted rooms. The key -my husband always kept locked up in a small casket, and I knew where the -key of that was to be found. - -Having unlocked the casket and obtained the key, I took a lamp from my -dressing table, and directed my steps to that quarter of the house. The -quivering flame was often nearly extinguished by gusts of wind, and the -shaking of the great oriel windows reminded me of the tread of ghosts. -My feet often faltered from fear; but I continued on, and reached the -great door in the centre of the long gallery, which gave admission to the -interdicted apartments. - -When I inserted the key in the lock, and unlocked the door which gave -entrance to these deserted rooms, my heart quite failed me, and I -regretted my curiosity. What was there to see about old unfurnished, -desolate apartments? How foolish of me to pry into nothing! Yet an -impulse I could not overcome bade me go onward; and accordingly I pushed -open the door, which opened harshly. I went in; the first room was a -large anti-chamber, like that on the other side of the house, naked and -lonely. Crossing this, I opened another door, which led, as I supposed, -into a similar apartment, when, to my utter amazement, I beheld what -struck me dumb with astonishment. - -The salon in which I stood was well furnished. A Grecian couch occupied -one corner; books, and toys, and instruments of music were scattered -round, and reclining on this couch lay a woman of handsome form, but -wild, haggard features, and insane expression; and on a low stool at her -feet sat Pasiphae, my attendant. - -Hearing the door open, she glanced around, and seeing me, shrieked, and -covered her face with her hands: - -“Gracious heavens! madame, how came you here? what brought you to these -fated rooms?” - -“What does this mean? speak, I command you! Who is this woman?—what are -you doing here?” - -“Ah, madame, why did you come here? Alas! alas! how unhappy; how -unfortunate,” was the only reply she made, as she rocked herself to and -fro. - -“Tell me! tell me quickly,” I cried, seized with a horrible suspicion of -the truth. At this the strange woman raised herself to a sitting posture, -and regarding me with a countenance of melancholy wildness, said, -clasping her hands together as she spoke: - -“Oh, ask him, won’t you, to take me out of this;—I will be good, indeed I -will: I never will come near him, if he don’t want to see me, if he will -only take me away. Oh, do ask him: pray do?” - -I went toward her mechanically, so stunned and stupid was I with -astonishment. I sat down beside, and more closely observed the poor -lunatic. I could plainly see fine traits in that blurred face; traces -of mind, now scarred and erased, like a blotted crimpled page. Love, -jealousy, humanity, and disgust, all told me that in this unhappy one I -saw my husband’s victim. What could he mean by shutting her up there? -Old Pasiphae still sat with her head bowed between her hands, and she -momently exclaimed,—“What will master say? oh, how he will curse me!” - -“No, no, Pasiphae; you shall not be blamed. Monsieur de Serval shall -never know of my visit here. Get up, and tell me what this strange scene -means.” - -The maniac stared at me with her great black eyes, and then continued on -in her sad tones. “No, no ball to-night; I cannot dance: he is coming -for you to-morrow,—I cannot dance when I expect him; take away the -dress; send away the carriage; I am going to sleep to dream of him,” -and languidly closing her eyes, she sunk back on the couch, and lay -perfectly still. Thinking the poor creature had fainted, I uttered an -expression of fear, when Pasiphae, motioning me to silence, bent over her -watchfully. Presently the sound of her regular breathing assured the old -domestic that she slept. Smoothing back from her forehead the tangled -masses of her hair, and covering the thin form with a large shawl, -Pasiphae composed her delicate hands upon her breast, and then rising, -took my hand in hers, and said mournfully: - -“Come, dear lady, this can be no pleasant sight for you;—if you will -return to your own room, I will tell you all. I have been on the point of -doing so several times, but fear of master’s anger prevented me; and I am -old and broken down, and were he to discharge me, might suffer and die -from want. Come, lady, ere she awakes. Poor thing; she will soon be dead -and far away. She has been very troublesome of late,—I could scarcely -manage her; but now she sleeps quietly—the first time in many days.” - -I silently contemplated the fitful repose of the madwoman for a moment -before going, and in that instant I saw the whole fabric of delusive -happiness I had erected on unstable air, shattered to the earth. I -gazed on the neglected, cast-off victim of my lord’s caprice, in whose -emaciated form and desert mind I saw the records of long mental and -bodily suffering. - -Pasiphae interrupted my reverie by twitching my robe; and, after she had -arranged the light on the antique mantel-piece, and adjusted her window -drapery, taking my lamp in her hand, we left the salon, locking the door -upon her insane ward. - -The outer door of the anti-chamber she also locked; and, satisfied -that if awaking she could not follow us, I returned to my chamber, -and overwhelmed with sickness of the soul, threw myself despairingly -into a chair, and burying my face in my hands wept bitterly. I felt -disappointed—heartbroken;—disappointed that the man in whom I had -centred all my hopes, should so utterly have ruined them;—heartbroken at -the melancholy sight I had seen. Sobbing like a child I sat and wept, -forgetful of my own identity, or Pasiphae’s presence. At length my grief -in a slight degree abated, and wiping my eyes, I looked up and perceived -the poor old woman sorrowfully looking at me. - -“I know, dear Lady Genevra, how sad you feel at this proof of your -husband’s infidelity; and sorry am I that you should have come to those -rooms and seen my poor charge,” said Pasiphae; and sympathy almost -rendered her voice sweet, and almost metamorphosed that weatherbeaten -face into one of youth and beauty. - -“How long has she been insane?” I asked, my voice almost choked with sobs. - -“This autumn coming will be two years.” - -“Who was she? how came she here?” - -“She was always called the Lady Isodore, that is the only name by which -I ever knew her. Four years ago master brought her here one night in a -fine carriage, and commanded us to treat her the same as if she were our -lawful lady: we always did so, and she ruled the household: master seemed -very fond of her; and, although he never took her travelling with him, -and no one visited her, yet her great love for him appeared to supply -the place of all other society. Two years after she came, he seemed to -grow tired of her, and they often had furious quarrels; one night, in a -difficulty of this sort, forgetting himself, he struck her violently with -the butt end of a pistol he held in his hand; she fell upon the floor, -and when revived, from that hour was mad. In vain did my unhappy master -use every endeavor to restore her: reason had fled—never to return. Since -then she has been sometimes wild and gay, sometimes sad—as this evening -you saw her. Master, at first, was nearly mad himself with remorse and -despair; but, after a while, he recovered from his grief; and, having -fixed those rooms up for her, consigned her to my care, and no longer -troubled himself about her. From habit I have acquired great influence -over her; and even in her wildest moods she will obey me. I think, dear -lady, that crime will always meet its just reward, even here on earth; -and when I look at master sometimes, I think within myself, ‘the hour of -retribution for thy sin will surely come some day.’” - -“When he came down to the castle some months ago, and told me to have -it cleaned and fitted up for the reception of its future lady, I could -scarcely credit my ears; and wondered who would marry, and risk her -happiness, with a man like him: and when he brought you here, and I saw -how beautiful and innocent you were, I trembled for the future. I never -intended to tell you this; and master trusted to my fidelity to him, -that you should never discover the secret of the uninhabited wing of the -castle. You are not more grieved than I that chance or curiosity should -have directed you there; your trust in monsieur I know is broken; but, -dear lady, I feel it my duty to tell you, that you lean upon a broken -stick if you depend on him for faith.” - -“Hush! Pasiphae; oh! be still; don’t say any thing against him: how -miserable I feel! I cannot believe that my Rinaldo can be so depraved; -that he, whom I trusted to reform, to render a better, wiser man, could -act with such brutality towards a woman.” - -My soul sickened with horror at such an inhuman action; and I -soliloquized, “This was the man whose glowing description of the wrongs -and troubles of his childhood had so interested and beguiled me; this -was the man who had begged me to exert my influence to reform and purify -his heart; who had promised, were I his Mentor, to be as gentle as -Telemachus; who had entreated me to be his guardian angel, to warn him -from the evils he had committed, yet deprecated: this was the man.” - -Truly, reason might have reproached me with over self-confidence, and -blind trust in the boy-god Cupid, who had so cheated me. And I had -dreamed of future years of tranquil happiness and companionship, after -the first flush of love had faded, and that profiting by past errors, -virtue hereafter should be his patroness; and this was the man on whom I -purposed working these miracles. He, who could wantonly inflict personal -violence on a woman, and then keep a senseless idiot housed like a dog in -an uninhabited part of the house. The veil which shrouded my eyes, was -being lifted off, like the mysterious veils of Isis, which conceal the -grotesque absurdity of the image adored. - -Perceiving Pasiphae still standing before me, her eyes filled with -sympathetic tears, I said, “Pasiphae, my good woman, you can go; I would -rather be alone; I feel very sad; you had better return to the room; she -may awake and miss you.” - -“You look very unhappy, dear lady, had I not better stay a little while -with you?” - -“No, no, I prefer being alone; go.” - -She departed; and then thought usurped her sway; I wished my husband -were there then, at that moment, to have told him what I thought of his -conduct; but when I reconsidered it, I saw it would do no good; for to -reproach a man with his vices, only alienates his affections, and gains -his dislike; it does not convince his understanding, for that will not -be convinced; nor better his heart, for he always thinks that could -not be bettered; and indeed, I think they are quite right, not often -being troubled with any. A roar of words is generally the only result, -and contempt and hatred the inevitable consequence. I was determined, -however, to speak of it to Monsieur de Serval on his return. Then, -distressed in mind, caring not if I died that night, I sought my pillow, -and wept till lost in the oblivion of slumber. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -Two days afterwards, my husband returned from his hunting party, bringing -some game with him. It was now late in the fall, and the forest trees -were tinted with many and various dyes, but the charms of nature had -no charms for me then, it was all dark and desolate, like my soul. -This strange, unlooked for event in my new married life, carried back -my thoughts to the miserable days of infancy, and the lonely hours I -spent as a wandering beggar girl in the streets of Vienna; the ideas the -speculative mind of childhood then indulged in, again returned to me, and -I began to take an inverted view of everything, and to look on nature and -human beings with an abstracted gaze. - -The evening of my husband’s return, I was standing on the balcony of the -castle, when he rode up to the gates, followed by his grooms; he rode -well, and his appearance was distinguished on horseback; seeing me, he -lifted his hat, and smiled, then disappeared under the gateway. - -Knowing he would expect me to meet him, I slowly dragged myself to the -banqueting hall, for so entirely were my feelings toward him changed, -that now I would have avoided, where formerly I should joyfully have -sprung to his arms. - -He stood surrounded by his dogs and servants, giving directions to the -grooms: saddles and housings, and game were lying about. - -“My love, excuse me a moment; I will see you in your drawing-room -presently,” said Monsieur de Serval, as I came toward him. Seeing him -occupied with his retainers and servants, and glad to be alone, I went to -my salon, and sat down to my piano; I began a sweet air from one of the -operas I had formerly performed; it was Norma’s reproach to Polileo, and, -as I sang it, I felt how applicable it was to my own case. A heavy hand -was laid firmly on my shoulder, and turning, I saw Pasiphae. - -“My lady, Monsieur de Serval has come back; I saw him just now in the -hall.’ - -“I know it, Pasiphae, I have just seen him; how is she, is she quiet?” - -“No, my lady, rather wild and noisy this evening; oh, you had better not -let him know what you have discovered.” - -“I shall tell him the truth; I am not afraid to speak the truth, -Pasiphae; it should at all times be spoken; no blame shall fall on you; -be quieted, you are safe.” - -The sudden entrance of my husband interrupted us, as I was about -asking some question about the unhappy Isodore. At the sight of him, -notwithstanding the injury I was satisfied he had done that poor woman, -the thousand fascinating remembrances of the last six months crowded -fast upon me; and, in looking on his fair face, whatever wickedness that -face concealed, I felt I loved him still. It was a delusion, when I -imagined I could so quickly learn to hate him. In fact, the transitions -of human feelings are like the seasons of the year, so gradually do we -pass from one line of feeling to the other extreme, that we are ourselves -unconscious when the end is attained. Thus it was with me; I did finally -consummate the climax of indifference and contempt towards my husband, -but not then: I had not reached it then. - -Pasiphae made a low obeisance to her stern master, and left us alone. - -As usual, Rinaldo kissed me; I submitted to the caress without returning -it: noticing my coldness, a cloud gathered on his brow. - -“You receive me very indifferently, Genevra, on my return from a perilous -bear hunt.” - -“I feel indifferent at this moment, Rinaldo.’ - -“Pray, may I inquire, signora, the cause of this change?” said he, and -drew his stately figure to its full height, and regarded me searchingly. - -“I can easily explain it, monsieur: I have been in the right wing of the -castle, and have seen the lunatic you keep shut up there, Lady Isodore.” - -He started back, as if shot; then rage shone in his eyes, and he angrily -exclaimed, - -“You have been to those deserted apartments: how dared you go there, what -took you there?” - -“My feet, of course, were the mechanical operators on the occasion, -monsieur,” answered I, derisively; “but curiosity was the only motive I -had at first, till gaining access, I beheld the victim of your cruelty.” - -“You, Genevra, _you_, to pry into my secret affairs: you, whom I have -taken from a disgraceful profession, and elevated in rank to any lady in -the land, to talk to me of cruelty;” and foaming with rage he tore up and -down the room like a madman. - -“Would, monsieur, for my peace of mind, my happiness, that you could -undo what you consider so great an honor, and restore me to that -‘disgraceful profession,’ which I have every reason to regret having -left for the arms of a libertine; and a home that has been desecrated -by wanton violence. Yes, when the night before last I went to those -rooms, and gazed with feelings of intense pity upon that forlorn being, I -plainly beheld the life you have hitherto led, and to which you will of -course return, after the novelty of my love has worn away. Oh, little did -I think, when I pledged you my whole heart and soul at the altar, little -did I dream that my affection would be thus requited by living witnesses -of shame and horror like this.” - -I felt excited to a terrible degree: the recollection of her injuries, -and my own shame, had excited me to a point I should, ordinarily, have -believed myself incapable of: with his arms folded and head depressed, my -husband contemplated me. - -“If you have finished, signora, I should like to take the liberty of -speaking,” said he, ironically. - -“No, I have not done; I never could find words sufficiently strong to -express my disgust and horror of such actions. Other women, perhaps, -creatures of sensual, vulgar souls, might feel jealous of the husband’s -love, forgetting the villany extended to the betrayed one; but I do not. -I blame you, not her—whoever she may have been, whatever she may have -done.” - -“Will you hear me, lady?” again demanded he, in the same cool tone as -before. - -“Yes, monsieur; speak on. I have expressed my thoughts: now speak yours.” - -Haughtily I flung myself on a couch, and, looking him in the face, -awaited his remarks. - -“The unfortunate woman you have seen,” said Monsieur de -Serval—endeavoring to compose his features and his voice to -calmness—“that unfortunate is a Spanish woman, from Madrid—her name is -Lady Isodore Dosamados—she was of a noble, but impoverished family: when -I first became her lover, I never enticed her from habits of morality; -she voluntarily became my companion. When I passed through Spain, on my -return to Italy, she attached herself to me, and I brought her here: it -was her own jealous temper, exasperating my irritable one, which brought -her to her present condition. If she chose to excite me to a quarrel, and -work upon my feelings until, losing all consciousness, I inflicted a blow -that crazed her, it was her own fault; I did not intend to harm her; but -immoral women, when enraged, are more like wild beasts than human beings: -thus it was with her. I have provided for her during her insanity, and -will continue to do so as long as her wretched life continues.” - -“I do not believe all you wish to impress me with as truth, in regard to -your moderation and kindness to her,” I replied, as he paused, evidently -expecting me to say something. “I don’t believe all you say; for -Pasiphae”—I stopped abruptly, remembering my promise not to implicate her. - -“What of her?” cried he, sternly. - -“Nothing.” - -“I know what you would say: that she has told you many delightful tales -of my cruelty, as you call it; well, let the old woman have her say: -women and children should never be contradicted; her crazy ward will -not live long; I only retain her now because she can manage her better -than any other. When Isodore dies she shall go quickly: and as for you, -signora, learn that I take neither reproof nor advice from my wife -however much I love her: and beware how you provoke my anger thus a -second time.” - -He stamped out of the room, and his heavy tread re-echoed along the -corridor. Amazed at his temper, I sat still, thinking over what he had -said, and wondering if he had spoken the truth: which, in that case, -would have been some extenuation of his fault, when Pasiphae came rushing -into the room, her face expressing the greatest terror, and frantically -wringing her hands, she threw herself on her knees before me, and stared, -without speaking. - -“What is the matter, Pasiphae? what has happened? what ails you?” I cried. - -“Oh, terrible! my lady. When I went back to the rooms, an hour ago—when I -left you here with master—I found Lady Isodore had got out of her room. -Frightened nearly to death, I went to hunt her. It seems she had wandered -along the corridor, which is dark and gloomy in the evening, and not -seeing the great staircase, tripped over it, and fell from top to bottom, -fracturing her skull, and bruising her body dreadfully. I found her lying -senseless at the bottom of the steps, and got the men to carry her up to -bed. Oh! come with me, dear lady; come quickly? she may be dead even now.” - -I needed no urging to fly through the dim galleries, to the deserted -apartments: Pasiphae following as fast as her legs would carry her. -There, stretched on her couch, apparently lifeless, her wild face cut -and gashed with wounds, blood streaming from her head, lay poor Isodore. -The physician was already in attendance, bathing the blood from her face -and head, and two or three of the household domestics, in astonishment, -beheld what they had never dreamed of before,—that the deserted wing -of the castle was tenanted by a lunatic. Her existence there, during -the period of her insanity, had always been a mystery,—known but to one -or two, who carefully guarded the secret,—and they now stood gaping in -stupid wonder. - -I assisted the physician in bandaging that poor head, and applied -aromatic vinegar to her hands and nose. The esculapius eyed her with that -peculiar expression physicians bestow on those whose case they consider -hopeless. For an hour, perhaps, she lay insensible. I stood rubbing her -hands, while tears fell fast from my face on that poor distorted one. - -Presently a slight shiver ran through her frame, her eyes opened -spasmodically, then closed again: she opened and shut her hands like one -in intense pain, then she groaned sorrowfully. Old Pasiphae buried her -weeping countenance in the pillows of the bed. - -“Doctor,” said I, “tell me the real truth; will she recover from these -terrible wounds?” - -“My dear signora, to be candid with you, I must say, judging from the -severity of the fracture on the skull, she never will. She may linger a -day or two; but I scarcely think she will survive that length of time; -the poor woman has killed herself.” - -This announcement, delivered with the habitual coolness of gentlemen of -that profession, was a thunder-bolt to me. - -“Going to die, do you say? Oh, heavens! how dreadful.” - -After leaving a potion to be taken at a certain hour, the physician went -away, promising to call at day-break, and we were left with the sufferer -alone. Monsieur de Serval had been informed of the sad event. Pasiphae -said he made no remark, but strode past her to his room, and locked -himself in. Probably if he felt any sentiment at all, it was one of joy -at the prospect of release from his illicit tie. Oh! how selfish are men -where their pride or vanity is touched, or their vices exposed. - -All night I watched beside her. She remained in a state of stupor, -manifesting no life, save by a feeble groan now and then, and sometimes -opening those great eyes, and then relapsing into lethargy. - -The physician was punctual to his promise, and the gray dawn had scarce -been born ere he came. He administered something which momentarily -revived her, and in the course of the day she spoke. Oh! strange -problem,—spoke sanely! with that singular precision we frequently see -in the insane restored to mind. Her memory reverted and dated from the -fatal moment when the blow was given which shattered that fair temple of -reason. - -I had not seen Rinaldo since the hour of ten, the night before, and as -he was acquainted with the sad disaster, I wondered at his indifference -to what the physician too prophetically foresaw—her death-bed. Alas! -thought I, as I leaned over her and watched the slow dawning of mental -consciousness, and the confused look and air of intense agony her face -showed,—alas! it seems to be my fate to be connected with the worthless -and unhappy. My husband, whom I thought so perfect—so repentant of former -follies and determined to amend in future—has sadly disappointed me. -The world I imagined so beautiful an Elysium, I find the abode of fair -deceit, and corrupt and rotten at the core. Oh, life! where are thy -pleasures unmingled with the alloy of pain? or is it thus in everything? -No sooner do we possess it, than we discover it to be like those lovely -apples of the shores of the Red Sea, very fair to look upon; but, when -tasted, bitter as wormwood—rotten as dust. - -Pasiphae disturbed the sad tenor of my thoughts, by directing my -attention to the door, at which stood Monsieur de Serval. Thinking his -presence the indication of a better mood,—of a feeling of compassion -toward his unhappy mistress,—I sprang toward him, and, forgetting our -quarrel, caught his hand in mine. He looked melancholy; and I thought I -could trace remorse on those delicate features. - -“Oh, Rinaldo!” I cried, “you see what has happened. Last night, while -the nurse was absent from the room, she left the apartment, and not -seeing the great staircase, stepped off it and fractured her skull. The -physician says she cannot survive. How terrible it is—is it not—to see -one die who has led such a life? Come close to her; she is regaining her -senses—her right mind.” - -My husband started. He evidently expected to see her crazed still, and -did not want to meet face to face, with reason restored, the woman he -had brutalized; but as she lay there and looked at him, intellect shone -in those dark oriental eyes,—not the quick, sharp, wandering stare of -insanity. She recognised him, and feebly beckoned with her hands. I -gently drew him to the bed-side. She made a motion as if to be raised, -and I lifted her in my arms and laid her head on my breast. The blood -had oozed out from the bandages, and her hair was clotted with it: her -face was deadly pale, and the mists of death had already settled there; -her eyes were growing languid and dim, and hands and feet very cold. -My husband looked at her with that expression of self-consciousness of -having inflicted wrong which alone can impress the human features, ere -the heart is altogether hardened and depraved. As I have said, her -memory flew back four years before, and she thought the quarrel and the -deed had just occurred. - -“Nevermind, dear Rinaldo, I forgive you. Don’t grieve, though I die from -it. I know I am high tempered; I provoked you to do it; I did not mean to -make you angry: don’t grieve. Here, Pasiphae, bandage my head; put me to -bed: when I recover I will try and be a better woman—more deserving of -your love.” - -In agony I glanced at the physician; she had no idea of her real state; -she knew not that death, in a few hours, would take her for his own. The -good man eyed her with an air of interest, for this was a strange case. - -He approached her, perceiving my wish; and, taking one of her hands in -his, said quietly, - -“My good lady, listen to me. You are not aware of your condition at -present; you are only this moment regaining your mind; you have been -insane for several years, till last night, escaping from the room, you -fell down stairs, and that sudden concussion has been the means of -restoring your mind. It is my duty to tell you that a very few hours will -close your life; you cannot live longer than to-morrow.” - -“Been insane,” repeated she, with a scornful, indignant air, “you are -dreaming, man; it was only a moment ago Rinaldo and I were quarrelling, -and, enraged, he struck me with a pistol. I am very sorry; but, oh! how -strangely my head feels: oh! how painful! what ails me? why am I lying -here surrounded by people? how dim everything looks. I cannot distinguish -anything: why is this? Get lights: I must arise and dress. I must find -Rinaldo: where is he?” - -She pushed me violently away from her, and with the last effort of -strength, sprung from her bed to her feet. Seeing my husband, she threw -herself on his neck, and wildly sobbing, kissed him. It was an awful -sight, to behold that woman, already in the embraces of death, hugging -and clinging to what had once constituted her joy of existence. I felt -no jealousy, for I ever possessed this peculiar trait; the moment an -object of affection disappoints me, that moment affection and infatuation -disappear. I felt a sentiment of bitter shame and regret that I had given -myself to such a man;—that is what I experienced as I witnessed this -strange scene. - -He looked annoyed,—not grieved; and once or twice tried to lay her down -on the bed, but her personal strength, to which was added additional -power by the strong excitement under which she labored, frustrated -his endeavor. Her disordered hair hung down her back; the bruised and -bandaged head, covered with blood, presented a ghastly sight. Her thin -hands, which clasped his neck, scratched and wounded; and the long night -robe she wore dabbled with blood. - -“No, no, no,” she cried; “I have you; I have you: now you shall not go -till you promise to love me, and forgive me my anger.” - -“Take her away, Pasiphae: rid me of the mad woman,” shouted my husband. -“Why do you stand there, stupidly inactive, when you see me thus annoyed? -Take her off my neck: put her in bed.” - -At the sound of his loud vindictive voice she relapsed her hold, -staggered back, and mournfully gazing on his enraged face, shivered, -turned, if possible, more pale,—then fell flat on the floor! - -“Oh, miserable man!” I exclaimed, as the nurse raised the death-stricken, -inanimate form, and laid it on the bed, while the doctor darted looks of -contempt at him. “Oh, apology for humanity! and have you no pity for the -unhappy sufferer from your vices?” - -“Why did you summon me here, madam, to witness this mummery? We all must -die some day, it matters not how. Do I wish to behold the death-bed of a -lunatic? Can _I_ assist her final departure? Why have you called me?—to -anger me, I suppose.” - -“Well, monsieur, if you think it too great a condescension to see her -die, go; leave the room,—I will attend the poor dying creature.” - -Without replying, save by a look of scorn and anger, he departed. I could -easily understand that he felt doubly angered when he reflected (as he -must have done) that my discovery of his illicit connexion necessarily -would weaken, if not wholly obliterate, my love for him. It was this -that inspired his rage, and made him hate the unfortunate object of it. -His love for me was still unabated;—not so mine. A bar of ice seemed -placed between us. In this respect women and men differ greatly, for -though a man may indulge himself in many loves, yet he generally returns -to the lawful one. On the contrary, when a woman’s affections are -once thoroughly alienated, they seldom return to the first object of -attachment. - -I cannot think of that woman’s death-bed without bitter regret, nor -write this portion of my memoir without dropping tears upon the page. -Recovering from the stupor into which she had fallen when he repulsed -her,—her eyes roved anxiously round in search of him. Not seeing him, she -closed them again, and remained motionless. An hour passed by: finding -she did not stir, I felt her hands and feet,—they were growing colder and -colder, and her eyes more dim. She was an hour nearer death. - -“She will be dead before twilight, lady,” said the physician, having -felt her pulse. “Poor thing! her death is very painful; she has suffered -much.” - -“Yes, I have suffered much,” was her audible reply, to our astonishment, -and she uplifted her eyes and joined her hands as if praying. I -remembered Monsieur de Serval’s description of his mother’s death-bed, -and wondered how he could treat thus the last moments of his neglected -mistress. So easy is it to express fine sentiments which one does not -feel, and never practise! Fine words cost nothing, and may be equally -well said by a bad as a noble soul; but fine actions _must_ result from a -good heart. - -Gradually twilight drew near, and she was sinking momently. Raised on my -breast, I held one hand in mine;—she seemed laboring to say something. I -stooped to the level of her ear, and tried to catch the sound. Her voice -was low, faint, and broken. - -“Dear lady,” at last I thought I heard her say; “I thank you for your -kindness, whoever you may be, and—,” she paused, as if to reflect, “tell -him I forgive him the injury he has done me.” - -Backward she fell from my supporting arms on her pillow: slower and -slower came her breath; more fixed grew her eyes; her hands grasped -convulsively at the bed clothes. I heard a rattling sound from her -throat; then the eyelids remained half closed, the mouth half open; -the hands released their hold, and the physician, bending over her, -said,—“Madame, she is dead!” - -I burst into tears, and fled from the chamber of death to my own room, -and there wept long and bitterly, both for her and for myself. - - * * * * * - -Pasiphae told me, some days after, that the corpse had been buried in -a cemetery two miles from the castle,—that M. de Serval had gone to -the room and looked at the dead, and she saw, or fancied she saw, him -shed tears. The old woman, now her insane charge was dead,—so strong is -habit,—really seemed to regret the loss, and continually talked of her. -For myself, I felt wretched, and wept at early dawn, at bright noon, and -again when dark night came on. I thought of my husband: I regretted his -behaviour; and notwithstanding all, I wished—oh, I don’t know what I -wished; but one thing I know is certain, that death, had he come then, -would not have found me unwilling to go. - -For two weeks after Isodore’s death, I remained alone in my apartments. -The communication between them and monsieur’s having been, by my order, -closed, lest he might intrude upon me. I neglected my dress, and my long -ringlets hung in wild disorder around my face. I wore a black dress, -as if in mourning, for my soul was mourning; and thus attired, and thus -lonely, I sat opposite a mirror, in which I beheld myself,—not the joyous -bride of six months ago, but pale, dejected, and melancholy; and thus I -sat and mused to no purpose, when my waist was clasped by a well known -hand, and a mouth, whose kisses I can never forget, imprinted one on my -cheek, as Rinaldo’s voice murmured in my ear: - -“Genevra, I am miserable, living thus without you. Let the past be -forgotten and forgiven: let us love each other as we did before this sad -affair. You cannot so quickly have learned to hate me, have you?” - -I hesitated a moment, I confess: then love triumphed over every other -feeling, and throwing myself into his arms, we fervently kissed each -other, and he promised to lead a better life. Of that, however, from what -I now comprehended of my husband’s character and habits, I had little -hope; for any habit, when once confirmed, be it _rouéism_, gambling, or -drinking, obtains such fascinating influence over the mind, that it is -rarely, if ever, relinquished. Still I endeavored to cherish a fondness, -which I felt his outlandish behavior would soon oblige me to abandon. - -The novelty of possession had now worn off, and he began to wish for -other society than mine; accordingly he resumed his acquaintance with the -neighboring nobility, and frequently the banqueting hall resounded with -their boisterous conviviality to a late hour of night. Then my husband -would be carried in the arms of his grooms in a state of drunkenness to -bed, while his guests were borne off in a similar condition to theirs. At -first, when I gently reproached him with his excesses, he seemed grieved, -listened to me quietly, and answered sorrowfully, that he knew he did -wrong; but soon this gentleness changed to roughness, and if I spoke -reprovingly, he sternly bade me be silent, and not presume to admonish -him, of what he was the best judge of. Thus in alternations of coldness, -reproaches, quarrels, and reconciliations, a year of married life passed -away. - -As I became more estranged from him, I missed the gayeties and pleasures -of Naples, which his affections had for a few months compensated me for -the loss of. I often thought of Blanche, of my teacher, and the kind -Madame Bonni. Monsieur Belmont had heard nothing of Blanche, though -within the year, inquiry had often been made by him concerning her. -My kind hostess had not forgotten me, and her love was often sent; my -teacher’s letters I carefully treasured, and read each one with double -care; they seemed like tidings of life: for the quiet chateau, the -rustic neighborhood, could scarcely be designated by that name; and my -regular existence, systematic as a clock, partook largely of lifeless -monotony. Rinaldo, it is true, made amends to bacchus for my dullness, -for night after night found him at the gaming table, playing high, or -carousing with his noisy companions. When, sometimes, I saw him excited -with wine, I could with difficulty realize that it was the same refined -man, whose sweet voice, and gentle ways had won my virgin heart, on -the beautiful shores of Parthenope. Guilo, my husband’s valet, said -that although his master had always lived high and been very gay, yet, -during the first months of our marriage, he had behaved much better than -formerly, and the worthy domestic appeared astonished to see him return -to his old habits; but he did not reflect, that the object for which this -good behavior was cultivated was attained, and there was no longer any -need of playing a part. - -I sometimes took long walks through that fair valley, and among the lofty -hills which majestically surrounded it. I amused and entertained myself -with the observation of nature, in its many different, yet all beautiful -modifications; I saw the birds, as they floated on the wing; I saw the -waving of the foliage of the forest trees, and the clouds as they moved -through the dewy atmosphere, for an eternal mist ever hung over those -mountains and that valley. The shepherds tended their flocks there, and -thither in harvest and vintage time came the pretty village girls, and -the hardy mountaineers, to gather the fruitful grape. Sometimes sitting -beneath some lofty tree, I reflected on the sottishness of the heart, -which, the more it possesses, the more it wants; I wondered if there was -any such thing as happiness, in what it consisted, and where to be found; -and then I wondered if it was exemplified by the epicurean belief, that -happiness must consist in banishing from the mind all painful thoughts, -and wholly surrendering oneself, spiritually and bodily, to pleasure: -or if the doctrine of the stoics was true, that happiness or misery, -pleasure or pain, was a principle of the mind, and could not be affected -by external objects; that if the mind was properly tutored, it would be -incapable of any other feeling than that of rational, quiet contentment; -it would be insensible to the cares and sorrows of life, regarding all -things with the proud eyes of ethereal, idealized philosophy. I inclined -towards the stoics, and resolved, if possible, so to school my mind, that -no earthly disappointment should surprise or vex me; but, unfortunately, -it is much easier to make resolves, than to keep them. - -Sometimes I extended my rambles to Isodore’s grave,—a simple mound of -earth, unmarked by tablet or tomb-stone. She had now been dead several -months, and the grass and wild flowers grew luxuriantly above the mound. -I often sat down on it, and fixing my eyes on the starry worlds over -head, at twilight time, sought to penetrate the secrets of futurity, and -read my destiny in their eternal light. I thought of the thousands and -thousands of years that had passed into eternity since first they were -hung there. “Why! oh, why?” I cried aloud from the fulness of my heart; -“why is it that the beautiful, the great, the good, all moulder back -to dust, and are forgotten, while these shine on, bright as when first -placed there, coeval with the Great Spirit, from time to eternity?—while -we die, and, oh, worse than all! know not what is to come hereafter!” -Such gloomy thoughts occupied my mind, as I slowly returned home after -twilight had deepened into sombre night, my clothes damp with dew. - -“Pasiphae,” said I, as I flung myself into my fauteuil, tired and -sorrowful; “get me some dry clothes, and arrange the fire. Where is -Monsieur de Serval? is he at home?” - -“Master was inquiring for you, my lady, this evening, and I sought for -you, but could not find you, when Guilo told me he saw you go out the -castle gate, and take the forest road. I told master, and he went away to -his shooting gallery.” - -As she spoke he entered the room, in his hunting dress, looking very -pale after his night’s carouse. We kissed each other; but the salute had -little of the fervor of former days. - -“I was looking for you this evening, Genevra, but you were not in your -apartments.” - -“No; I went to take a walk in the woods.” - -He began whistling as he walked up and down, evidently wishing Pasiphae -gone. Anticipating his wish, after I had changed shoes and stockings, I -dismissed her. - -“I wished to see you,” said he, after she had gone, “to tell you that I -am going away again, a hundred miles back into the country, on a hunting -party, to be absent a week. When I return I shall bring a friend with me, -the Count Calabrella, to spend some days.” - -“Yes,” said I, mechanically. - -Continuing his walk, he looked at me as I sat. - -“You don’t look well of late, Genevra; your face has lost its freshness; -your eyes their brightness.” - -“I feel altered externally and internally.” - -“I think I am something changed myself within the last year. Let me -see,” said he, reflectively; “yes, this is the anniversary of our -marriage:—the year has been an eventful one to me.” He seemed to expect -some remark, and I determined to touch him to the quick. - -“Yes,” I replied, as if unconsciously; “it is five months since Isodore -died: how sad her death-bed was!” - -His face flushed, and he exclaimed fiercely: - -“Why do you speak of that woman? why do you remind me of her? She -is dead; well, let her rest in peace, and cease to torment me with -recollections of her.” - -But I wished him to hear of her. I thought it only an act of justice to -her injured memory, and I continued quietly: - -“You feel, then, no remorse for your past conduct toward her, monsieur? -no regret, yet she loved you much; and if she erred, it may have been -through unhappy circumstances, or through an overweening attachment to -you.” - -“She sinned through nothing of the sort,” cried he sharply,—“her affair -with me was not the only one she ever had. She had been a notorious -woman long before I ever saw her. As for the deep regrets you talk of, I -feel none. I consider I acted honorably in taking care of a lunatic, and -suffering myself to be frequently annoyed by the antics of a crazy woman. -She is better off where she is.” - -I saw my husband was impenetrable to any feeling on the subject, and -feeling misanthropic myself, I cared not to enter into a wordy war. -Relapsing into silence and thought, I sat motionless. One thing I plainly -perceived, that he was piqued that I pitied the dead Isodore, and -manifested neither anger, contempt, nor hatred for her memory; he would -rather have seen me furiously jealous, retaining the recollection of her -error, and hating her name. But I had lost all hatred for anything and -everything, and was sinking into a listless apathy. - -“Well, farewell till we meet again,” said Monsieur de Serval, abruptly, -after a moment’s pause. - -“Farewell, monsieur.” - -We shook hands, and he departed. I watched from my window, and saw his -close travelling carriage rolled into the court-yard. Guilo placed -numerous packages, boxes of cigars, and comfites on the front seat; then -my husband entered it, his hat slouched over his eyes, and enveloped in -his great coat. Guilo mounted behind; the postillion huzza’d, and they -rattled away down the valley road. - -I did not miss him; his society was no longer necessary to my very -existence. We could live apart for days, weeks, months, without the -same regrets and longings we should have experienced during the first -months of married life. During his absence I busied myself in household -affairs, rode on horseback, played and sang, and endeavored to kill time -as fast as possible. I was very young, and my tastes and habits still -bordered closely on girlhood—I might almost say childhood. Pasiphae, -with her weird-like countenance, as she sat over the fire in the -banqueting hall on those chilly autumnal nights, and told me strange -ghost stories, often laughed at the childish alarm I showed at her tales. -She was my confidante, and, in fact, only friend, in that wild region. -To her I confided all my thoughts, my griefs, and fears, and hopes. She -sympathized with, but could not advise me. - -The week of his absence passed quietly away: nothing of moment occurred -worth relating, and I was sitting in my salon reading a romance, when -Pasiphae entered, saying Guilo had arrived in advance of his master, and -announced that Monsieur de Serval would be with me within half an hour. -Upon the delivery of his message I consulted my mirror. Pasiphae declared -herself satisfied with my appearance. I remember with vivid distinctness -the dress I wore: it was a dark, deep crimson velvet, made high in the -neck, and long sleeves concealed my arms: the rich, heavy folds of -the robe swept the floor; a Grecian head-dress of lama lace formed my -coiffure, and my hair fell in long ringlets to my waist. - -“Ah, my lady; I never saw you look so beautiful,” said the faithful -creature, in an ecstacy of delight; for the slightest thing will throw an -Italian into a fit of enthusiasm. “That head-dress is so charming, and -the robe so handsome! Ah, if fine dress only made people happy, it would -be worth wishing for.” - -“Pasiphae, I think I heard monsieur’s carriage driving into the -court-yard. See if it is him.” - -As I spoke, I heard voices and heavy steps in the hall, and before she -could reach the door, it was opened hastily, and my husband entered, -followed by a figure so wrapped up in coats and shawls, that I could -scarcely discern what it was. Pasiphae hastened to relieve this muffled -form of its encumbrances, after disburdening my husband: and when the -stranger, stepping toward me, bowed,—the first glance at his face told -me that I beheld the stranger of the opera. The same beautiful eyes were -bent upon me, and the low deep tones of his voice struck my ear as he -said: - -“Madame, I am happy to make the acquaintance of the wife of my friend.” - -I felt the blood rush to my brow, my neck, my very hands, as I -tremblingly replied: - -“Count, you are most welcome to our home.” - -Rinaldo did not notice my embarrassment; he was occupied in giving orders -about the luggage, the game, and a hundred other things; and when he -had completed these commands, turning to me, who had been saying some -confused nothings to the visitor, he said: - -“Come, count, and you, madame, let us proceed to the supper room, and -after we have rendered our duties there, we will return hither for -conversation.” - -All my husband’s movements were abrupt and singular, otherwise I should -have been astonished at this sudden interruption. Count Calabrella -offered me his arm, and leaning on that strong arm, and looking on that -handsome, energetic face, which afterwards became, oh! how dear to me, -I followed my stern lord, who strode before, to the banqueting hall. -Rinaldo sat at the head of the table, myself and his guest at each side. -By the brilliant light of the lamps around us, I could more fully observe -the stranger. The count was opposite in appearance to my husband; he was -taller, of an athletic form, strong, and manly. His eyes, large, languid, -yet sparkling, sometimes flashed fire, sometimes were the impersonation -of repose. His hands, and feet were rather large, not so delicate as -Monsieur de Serval’s. His whole appearance was rather massive, not -feminine or soft, as was the look, the whole person of my husband. - -Rinaldo’s face was flushed from wine, and he talked loudly and gayly, -not to me, but to his friend. He talked most of his ill success on the -bear hunt, cursing the ill attendance of the servants and grooms. He -drank glass after glass of wine, and his evanescent spirits grew higher -and higher under the influence. I regarded him with feelings of painful -regret, but he seemed not to observe my earnest looks, save by a return -glance of scorn. - -The count appeared embarrassed. I saw he felt for me and for his friend, -and looked relieved when the repast was over, and we returned to the -salon. He must have seen the coldness existing between my husband and -myself, for he also seemed infected by it, and after several efforts -at a general conversation, asked me to favor him with a song. I did -so with alacrity, to relieve the tedium which seemed to pervade the -drawing room: yet though I sang, I did so mechanically. One idea dwelt -in my mind—who was this Count Calabrella, this man, whose beautiful eyes -had so long before haunted me, like a foreshadowing dream of futurity? -How strange that he should so unexpectedly cross my path now, when a -married woman; now, when his acquaintance could be nothing to me. Still, -the same presentiment haunted me, that my destiny in future would have -something to do with him; and as I glanced around at him, as he sat near -my husband, listening to the song, leaning on the arm of the sofa, his -strongly marked features distinctly shown by the glancing firelight, what -a contrast did that manly form, so energetic, breathing, living,—speaking -of nobility of soul,—what a contrast did it not present to my fair, yet -dissipated, reckless husband! He had thrown himself in an attitude of -ease upon a sofa, and with his eyes closed, seemed half asleep. That was -scarcely polite to his guest, but Rinaldo cared not what any one thought; -he cared more for his own comfort, than for fixed rules of etiquette. - -The count drew his chair towards me, and remarked, “Your castle, madame, -is delightfully situated here, in this beautiful ravine; I have often -heard Monsieur de Serval speak of his mountain home, but never, till now, -had an opportunity of seeing it.” - -“Yes, the castle is a charming summer residence, though rather dreary in -winter.” - -“I have never,” continued he, “been so far north before; my attendance -on his majesty has hitherto prevented me from travelling to any great -extent; and Naples and its environs, you know, do not afford any great -variety to one who has been accustomed to it a lifetime.” - -“You are, then, from Naples, beautiful Naples!” Numerous recollections -were recalled by that name; and I looked down, and almost unconsciously -sighed. When I raised my eyes, I met those of the stranger, bent -curiously on my face: he seemed endeavoring to read my thoughts; and I -blushed as I met that look, though I scarce knew why myself. - -“Yes,” said he, in reply to my remark, “beautiful Naples was my -birth-place; and there I have lived the principal part of my life.” - -Here Rinaldo, raising himself from his recumbent posture, joined us, and -began turning over the music leaves on the piano. - -“My wife sings one of these songs magnificently, count,” said he, as he -sought among the other music for it. “Oh! here it is: oblige us madame, -by singing it.” - -It was the song for Ajesha: ‘We have lived and loved together in sunlight -and in tears;’ and I felt the tears gush into my own eyes, as I executed -it. It brought back, bright as yesterday, the night of its first -representation—Blanche’s spirited acting—the presence and applause of -the royal family. The tones lingered on my lips, as if they obeyed the -impulse of my heart, and by remaining, could recall bygone hours more -forcibly to mind. - -“That is a charming melody,” said the count; “and it is needless to -admire that voice, whose far-spread fame has roused all Italy.” - -I felt weary, and, as it was growing late, on a look from my husband, we -retired; he, accompanying his friend to a bedchamber, and I returning to -my cheerful apartment; where, by the blazing fire, I sat down to dream -and reflect, on what, alas! on what too many mortals while away existence -in—dreams, unsubstantial, unreal dreams. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -I had for some weeks remarked the visits of several mysterious looking -strangers, who came often, and were closeted long with Monsieur de Serval -in his studio. These men were dressed in the costume of the peasantry, -but they all wore brown cloaks, with cowls drawn over their faces, -which they jealously preserved from sight, perhaps from pity to those -unfortunate hearts on whom they should bestow their glances. There was -something very strange about them; and as none of the domestics knew from -whence they came, or whither they went, I determined to ask my husband -their business at the castle. - -The morning after his arrival I rose early. I heard my husband move about -his room till a late hour, when silence proclaimed he had gone to rest. -We no longer sank to rest, cradled in each other’s arms—and sometimes -when my lonely, impassioned heart, fairly ached for companionship, I -compared our present estrangement with the joyful hours we had formerly -spent together; and then the midnight hour saw convulsions of passion, -I should have been ashamed any one should witness, save that faithful, -silent monitor, time; but it was no fault of mine: the gay _roué_, whose -fickle fancy was momently caught by my beauty and virtue, had wearied by -possession; the same face, the same enduring love, no longer attracted -him; he had not known his own heart when he promised fidelity: he was -incapable of it. I sometimes felt disposed to forgive him the wild life -he had led during the past year, could I have seen any indications of -a reformation; I could have returned to my old love, and have been -happy once more, would he have acted differently, but he would not: to -reproaches, alienations, and recriminations, had succeeded a polite -coldness, which, between husband and wife, means far more than the -alternations of hot and cold feeling. - -I often wept myself to sleep, hugging my pillow to me for company; my -mind dwelt in the past, or speculated on the future: it was void and -empty, for it is only when we are with one we love that we live in the -present, and who loved me now, who save old Pasiphae? - -I sought the salon, where, to my surprise, I saw the count seated. -On entering, he rose, placed a chair for me, and made some general -observation on the beautiful day. I replied, seated myself, and fixed my -eyes on the fire, for there was a magnetic attraction in those orbs that -influenced me strangely when I met them;—the gentleman suddenly remarked, - -“Madame, you are much improved since I first saw you, the night of your -first appearance at Naples.” - -“Ah! you saw me then at that time?” - -“Yes, and I shall never forget your look, your manner, your acting and -whole appearance: the tones of your voice, indeed the whole scene is -engraven on my mind.” - -The _tone_ in which he said this, made the expression, and sent the blood -to my cheek. How true it is, that looks and tones give the sense to -conversation, far more than the words themselves; I knew not what reply -to make to this extravagant compliment, and bowed in silence. - -“I never thought my friend would ever marry,” he continued, I thought to -relieve my obvious embarrassment,—“he used to be so volatile and gay; but -I am glad he has, and that the correction of youthful errors has fallen -to the guidance of one so gentle.” And as he looked at me, the same light -shone in his eyes. “We have been almost like brothers for many years; at -one time he was aide-de-camp to his majesty, and during that period we -were constantly together; being older than he, I naturally advised and -guided him; but now I see how much better he is tutored by that power -that rules the world, the influence of love.” - -The arch smile that played upon his lips, called the blushes to my -cheeks, while my mournful heart, alas, too truthfully denied the -assertion. - -At this moment a servant announced the breakfast, and the count rising -offered me his arm, and we went in together; Rinaldo was not there: I -sent to request the honor of his presence, while the count entertained -me delightfully, with a description of his journey to the shores of the -Dead Sea, and travels in Arabia. His descriptive powers were fine, -and I listened eagerly; we were thus engaged when Rinaldo entered; the -lassitude and dissipated air my husband had acquired of late, from -negligent habits, had never so forcibly struck me before, as then, -when he came towards me; his eyes were sunken, his form thin, and the -expression of his features cadaverous; he looked worn out: he smiled on -his friend, said ‘good morning’ to me, then sat down on the other side of -the table. - -“The morning is fine, count,” he remarked, as the attendant handed him a -cup of coffee; “it is a charming day for rambling, and I will show you -over the grounds.” - -“I shall go with pleasure,” answered he, and then continued his -description of Mecca, and the grave of the Prophet. - -“Of what are you speaking?” asked my husband. - -“My travels in Arabia,” said the count, “I have been there within the -last three years. Since we parted at Naples, I travelled through the -East.” - -“Ah!” said Rinaldo, “I did not know that; how desolate those countries of -the Levant are now: what a contrast they present when we recall the olden -time.” - -“Desolate enough, and the means of travelling miserable, and stopping -places filthy. - -“All life, all commerce, all enterprise seems progressing onward to the -North of Europe, leaving the East, and even us, far behind; we are on the -decline, never probably to be revived again. - -“Thus it is with every thing on earth, every thing has its beginning, -its zenith, and its fall. But do not let us involve madame in a didactic -controversy, we will continue our philosophies when alone, my friend,” -said he, bowing to me, as I accepted his escort to my salon, when my -husband and himself departed for their walk. - -As I crossed the corridor to my bed chamber for my tapestry, to amuse -myself during the morning, I again met some of those shrouded forms which -seemed to haunt, like ghosts, the castle. One of them, pushing partially -back the cowl he wore, disclosed to my view a remarkably sunburnt, -repulsive physiognomy, whose harsh dark features appeared to me the index -to a harsh dark soul. - -“God save thee, lady, but I wish to see the master, Monsieur de -Serval,—is he at home?” - -“No, my good fellow,” said I, in a gentle tone, wishing to ascertain what -these men wanted; “what is your business with him, tell me, and I will -communicate it to him when he returns?” - -“We have orders, lady, from our chief,”—at that one of the others -frowned on him, and he confusedly went on, “that is—I mean to say—it is a -private matter of business with the master, I cannot tell any other than -him.” - -“Well,” said I, “you can go to the lower hall and wait for him, he -will return soon;” and calling Guilo, I bade him conduct them thither, -and added, in a whisper, an admonition to watch and not permit them to -depart till my husband returned. They seemed unwilling to remain, and the -chief said he would come again at a more convenient season, but I gently -detained them, bidding them wait monsieur’s return; reluctantly they -followed Guilo, who regarded them with suspicious glances. - -An hour afterwards I was walking on the terrace, when I saw Rinaldo -approaching, with Count Calabrella; he was speaking with great -earnestness, and peering with penetrating eyes into those of his friend; -they were evidently engaged in some deeply interesting discussion, in -which the count, from his cloudy brow and downcast eyes, did not seem to -acquiesce. - -As they ascended the stone steps, at the summit of which I stood, both -became silent, and the count, lifting his hat to me, made some remark -about the beauty of the grounds. I hastened to tell my husband about the -strangers. - -“Monsieur de Serval,” addressing him by his surname, as was most polite, -“three strangers of very mysterious appearance, whom I have often seen -here before, now await you in the lower hall. As you were out, I asked -their business, but they declined telling, and preferred waiting your -return.” - -“In the lower hall did you say?” said he abruptly, and with a disturbed -look. “Why did you not send them to the studio? It must be him,” he -added as if to himself; “what can have happened? how strange!” and, -without saying another word to me, he walked rapidly away, and entered -the castle. I looked after him with surprise, for by his startled -looks and distorted manner, I plainly saw that this was some affair of -importance, and could not refrain from wondering what it was. I had a -vague presentiment that his conversation with the count in some way -related to these men. I could have wished to have asked the count what -had been the subject of their conversation, but he was almost a perfect -stranger. I could not do so with propriety, and so, silently, he and I -retired to the salon. There was something so inexpressibly delicate and -gentle in his manners, in his looks, in every thing he said or did, that -it threw a charm around him, and this magic influence soon extended to -those of his acquaintance. He had sojourned with us but two days, and -yet had ingratiated himself into the good graces of the domestics, and by -his fine conversational powers had whiled away some of the many lonely -hours I daily passed. My husband too possessed, at first sight, the most -attractive and winning ways, but these soon gave place to capricious -variations of feeling, which soon ended in complete indifference, like -all _roués_ the difficulty constituted the charm; that overcome, the -graces, the charms soon vanished. - -I often regretted—as I sat alone, gazing on the fickle fire-light—often -regretted having left the stage and having exchanged the certainty of a -brilliant fame, unbounded admiration, and a fortunate perspective, for -the uncertainty of love. - -My husband had been closeted with his visitors two or three hours when I -saw them depart, and he came from the room, pale and anxious; with hasty -strides he reached the court-yard, and having ordered one of the fleetest -horses to be saddled, mounted, quick as lightning and rode off. - -I pulled the bell, and Guilo answered the appeal. - -“Guilo, where in the name of heaven has Monsieur de Serval gone to? I -this moment saw him depart on horse-back.” - -“I know not, madame. He seemed very angry at something: he swore and -muttered to himself as he mounted. I supposed you knew where he was -going, my lady.” - -“No; I know not. I have no idea.” - -“I wish I could tell you, my lady; but master has acted so singularly -lately, I am not surprised at anything he does. I never saw him seem so -queer.” - -“Did the strange men take the same road your master did?” - -“No, my lady; they went away before him and took the opposite direction.” - -“Very well, Guilo, you can go.” - -“Will you be pleased to have dinner served now?” - -“What is the hour?” - -“Five o’clock, Madame.” - -“Well, serve it, and announce it to the count.” - -Guilo did so. When I went to dinner, my guest had preceded me: he looked -very thoughtful. When I said that we must excuse Monsieur de Serval, he -having been called away by a matter of business, his face clouded; but it -passed quickly away, and he was as entertaining as usual. - -That night, after I had retired to rest, the clattering of horses’ hoofs -sounded on the valley road; they neared the house; now they were beneath -my window; then stopped: then I heard the stamping of heavy boots, and -loud voices in the hall; then I distinguished Rinaldo’s piquant voice—for -he had a bright voice, soft and cheering; and next I heard him enter -his own room. Satisfied that he had returned safe, I composed myself -to sleep, wondering what this mystery could mean,—longing to ask, yet -restrained by pride. - -Next day Rinaldo appeared to have recovered himself entirely from his -temporary agitation, and I ventured to inquire, indirectly, the cause of -his sudden journey. He carelessly replied, that it was a small matter of -business which demanded his presence, and avoided the subject. I was not -satisfied, however; I knew better; but I also waived the subject, as I -could elicit nothing by questions. - -A fortnight of dubious calm succeeded. Three gentlemen of the -neighborhood, my husband’s friends, came to visit him. The same old -scenes of riot and late hours were enacted over again; but I observed -that the count avoided, as far as was consistent with politeness, all -participation in these midnight revels, and often retired early to his -chamber to avoid them. This added to his attractions in my eyes; and -meeting me one evening, as I was gliding past the banquet-hall,—whence -I heard the drunken revels, the noisy songs and clamorous uproar of my -husband and his friends,—he came to my side, and, quietly placing my arm -in his, silently conducted me to my salon, closed the door, to shut out -those noisy sounds, drew my fauteuil to the fire, then placed another for -himself, and looking at me very sadly, said in mournful tones: - -“This behaviour of your husband is very distressing to you, I know.” - -“Yes, it saddens me much to see him wasting his life in such -dissipations.” - -“Has he always led this sort of life since he married you?” - -“The first months of our wedded life we spent happily. He acted -differently then.” - -“Rinaldo always was very wild, very unprincipled in his views of women, -yet the first day or two of my arrival here, I confidently thought you -had reformed him.” - -“Alas! that is not so. I wish it were.” - -“Marriage is a mere lottery at best,” said the count, thoughtfully. -“I have always viewed it in that light, and my observation of its -unhappy results, has deterred me from choosing a wife. Some frequently -draw prizes; most get blanks. You, dear lady, have unfortunately—” He -paused, and did not complete the sentence, probably fearing to wound my -feelings; for so strange it is, though you may despise your husband, yet -to hear him depreciated, will wound. - -“In a month from now, I shall probably be at Epirus. I only feel happy in -continual motion: travelling, war, politics—something to excite. Onward, -seems to be my watchword; onward, as we on our little planet continually -whirl round, and other worlds follow us, unceasing, eternal, in the -sublime organization of nature.” - -I had never seen my guest so animated before; his eyes sparkled, his -alabaster face lit up with the warm glow of feeling and enthusiasm. The -announcement of his intended departure, somewhat surprised me, as we had -expected to retain him for several weeks. - -“We shall regret your departure, count,” said I, trying to force a smile, -but it was a sad one. “Monsieur de Serval intimated that we were to have -the pleasure of your society for some time to come.” As I spoke, my eyes -met his, and their expression of intense interest riveted mine: those -beautiful, sad eyes,—those eyes of love, of ingenuousness, of truth and -fidelity. He sighed, and withdrew them, and I resumed my contemplation of -the carpet of the salon. - -A long, loud laugh, from the apartment where my husband was revelling, -startled me. I thought I heard footsteps coming, and not wishing to see -him in his present condition, I rose to return to my room. - -“Good night, dear lady,” said the count. “Remember me in your prayers, -for I need them.” Glance met glance, but I tore mine away, and I felt, as -I sought my repose, that my fluttering heart, and crimsoned cheek, told -sad tales against me. - -Rinaldo was ill next day from excitement, and his friends in much the -same condition. Monsieur D’Artagnan, and Monsieur Porthos, were men of -middle age, corpulent and lazy; high livers, high drinkers, fond of -all sorts of rural sports, and all sorts of amusements. They generally -favored, or rather bored, me with their compliments and society every -day after dinner, when Rinaldo usually lounged about a little while, -ere he and they disappeared together, to arrange their plans for the -evening. The count spent hours and hours with me, reading, singing, -conversing, receiving and imparting information. These consolations, -these sympathies, between a married woman and a handsome male friend, -are dangerous. The loneliness of heart, the isolation a woman who has -been slighted in her affections feels, strongly induces her to love the -society, and the self-deluding friendship of an interesting man. This -friendship soon becomes love, and then—where are they? - - * * * * * - -Some evenings after this, twilight found me in the beautiful garden of -the castle, seated beneath a widespreading palm tree, that threw far -before me its blooming branches. From beneath this natural bower, lulled -to repose by the beautiful scene before me; by the sweet, balmy air that -played around me, and the glorious sky above me, I contemplated the -landscape. - -The sun went down behind a veil of heavy purple clouds, whose ragged -edges were tinted with his parting rays; his smile dwelt lingeringly -along the mountain’s brow, as if he _must_, yet wished _not_, to say -farewell. The warm, oriental light illumined the summits of the trees, -and showed forth more distinctly the tall gothic turrets of the castle. -Part of the building remained in shadow, and the rising ground of terrace -behind me concealed my view of the court-yard and its marble fountain. - -The grounds, disposed in flower beds of divers shapes and patterns, -were thickly planted with exotic flowers, which, as if tired of their -admiration of the god of day, now drooped their heads in mournfulness -at his departure;—the golden butterfly flew gayly from flower to -flower; his purple and gold wings glittering in the glowing light;—the -grasshopper hopped on the tall thick grass; and the birds sang in the -trees, carrolling their love-notes so thrillingly, I almost envied them -their joy. Their songs were the only voices of the hour, and in listening -to them I felt soothed, consoled: sweeter, calmer thoughts came over -me,—etherealized feelings,—and leaning my head against the rough bark of -the trees, I fell into a gentle slumber. - -Cracking of brushwood, breaking of boughs, aroused me from my dreamy -trance. I started, looked around;—I heard the sound of coming feet, and -presently my husband emerged from the copse. The sun had disappeared, -and the mellow dusk was gathering her dusky veil around me. Arousing -myself from dreams, I spoke to him as he seated himself by me. He -looked absorbed with melancholy preoccupation, as was his wonted air of -late:—his dress was disordered. - -“What an exquisite evening!” he observed; “how gloriously that sun -declines along the hills.” - -“Yes, it is indeed beautiful. I have been watching his departure for the -last hour.” - -“I have been on a long hunt through the forest: some of the people said -they thought they had discovered a bear’s trail; but I sought in vain;—I -found no traces of one.” - -“How can you like those bear hunts; they are so dangerous?” - -“They are exciting:—I like excitements.” - -“We mutually became silent, watching the clouds drifting across the sky, -and the different hues of eve, as they blended into one. The air began to -distil dew heavily. I rose, apprehensive that my health would be injured -by exposure to it. As I rose upon my feet, a strange sensation came over -me. Earth, air, mountains, clouds,—all objects seemed to swim before my -eyes. I felt as if falling, I knew not where, and stretching out my hands -for support, instinctively, I was received into my husband’s arms, and -lost all consciousness. - -“When I recovered life, I found myself in my salon, my husband and -Pasiphae anxiously bending over me: my bodice was unloosed, my hair -undone. I gasped for breath, and partly raising myself, leaned on -some one’s shoulder;—it was Rinaldo’s. Everything in the room seemed -indistinct, confused. - -“Dear lady, what ails thee? what has happened?” I heard poor Pasiphae -say, as she bathed my face and rubbed my hands. - -“Your mistress fainted as we sat in the garden together,” was my -husband’s reply, rendered inarticulate by tears. He kissed me repeatedly, -smoothed my hair, and manifested by his emotion the grief he felt, not -only at my illness, but his own incomprehensible, cruel, conduct. - -When strong aromatics had thoroughly brought back to earth my truant -senses, Pasiphae watched that night my fitful slumber, broken only by -strange starts and convulsive movements that half affrighted her: my -husband tenderly attended me. For days (they said) my life hung on a -thread: and when exhausted nature resuscitated to life and health once -more, I had a beautiful, a lovely boy! - -My health for weeks after his birth continued delicate. I seldom left my -room: that cherished infant, whose life had so nearly been purchased by -my own, my constant companion. And Rinaldo was kinder in those days; if -our old feelings were not renewed, at least our child formed a connecting -tie,—we seemed drawn more nearly to each other. Pasiphae manifested, at -seeing the child, the joy of a child itself at seeing a new toy: she -would carry the little thing in her arms, admire its undefined features, -and playfully caress its tiny hands. - -Count Calabrella, at my husband’s urgent entreaty, prolonged his visit, -and often came to pay his compliments; the charms of his conversation and -manners won daily upon my esteem; I never could look upon that animated -face, nor listen to that melodious voice, which distilled such noble -thoughts, such chivalrous sentiments, without wishing that Rinaldo was -more like him,—that he did not desecrate to unworthy uses the abilities -with which nature had endowed him. Time fleeted, and I again resumed -my walks in the castle garden, and on the terrace, in which Pasiphae -sometimes followed me, bearing the child. - -We named him Raphael, a fancy of his father’s it was to bestow on the -little one the name of the great painter. As day by day developed his -senses and he became conscious of the difference of persons, and would -extend his baby hands toward me, and weep if I left him, I realized in -this love a mother’s pride, a mother’s joy; often when caressing him I -imagined I saw him grown to manhood, noble in his principles, handsome in -appearance, and that he would reward me by his tenderness and duty for -all the mental anguish I should have to endure before that time came. -When he pressed his little hands on my face, or tried to bite my finger -as infants do, I always kissed that sweet little mouth, and sometimes -tears followed the kiss and fell upon that face. - -On one occasion when I was passing through the corridor, on my way to -take my daily promenade, the door of my husband’s studio was suddenly -thrown open, and the mysterious stranger who had accosted me before in -that corridor rushed violently passed me, and disappeared down the marble -staircase. The sight of that shrouded form inspired me with a vague -foreboding of horror. I had never been able to gather from my husband the -object of their frequent visits, and I often attributed his dejection and -gloom to his communications with them. - -“Who can that man be, Pasiphae? and what can he and his companions want -with monsieur?” - -“Indeed, my lady, I know not; they come very often I know, and I dislike -them much.” - -“God grant they bring no ill fortune here; but I feel as if contaminated -by their vicinage,” I devoutly exclaimed, as we stepped from the oriel -window out upon the terrace. We did not walk much that day, the wind -blew hard; the infant gasped for breath and hid his face on his nurse’s -shoulder: we went in. - -The next day I was occupied in my apartment with my tapestry, when Guilo -abruptly entered, without knocking, and with a countenance pale and -troubled, requested me to come immediately to his master: he wanted me. -Laying aside my embroidery, I left Pasiphae with Raphael, and went. What -was my amazement, when entering the banqueting hall, I found it filled -with strange men, wearing the uniform of state officers, and seated -in their midst, Monsieur de Serval and Count Calabrella; my husband -affrighted and shrinking, the count self-collected and calm as usual. -I moved hastily toward my husband, and seated myself at his side; the -officers making way for me as I passed them. - -“What does this mean, Rinaldo? what do these men want?” I cried, seized -with a strange presentiment that their presence in some way related to, -or was concerned with the visits of the mysterious strangers. - -“Be composed, poor child,” replied Rinaldo. “I will tell you; I must -leave here, I must go away.” - -“Leave your castle, go away! Wherefore? for God’s sake, explain?” I -demanded, perfectly bewildered. - -“It is a dreadful thing to tell, but it must be told; I am arrested -by these men for high treason; they have come to take me before my -sovereign; I am utterly ruined; my castle is no longer mine; I am a -bankrupt.” - -“Oh God!” I exclaimed, as if struck by a sudden blow. I fell down upon my -knees, burying my face in my hands. - -“It is but too true. I have suffered myself to be engaged in a piratical -expedition against the government; it has been discovered, destroyed, and -I am commanded to answer the charges laid against me; I am to leave here -to day in company with these men.” - -“Engaged in a piratical expedition against the government; to be -arrested; perhaps imprisoned for life; and where are they to take you? -cannot I also go?” - -“_You_ go with me to ignominious disgrace, to a prison’s walls; oh no, -that cannot be: and yet you cannot stay here. This house will pass into -other hands; I know not what to do with you, where to send you. I must -return to Naples, but I do not wish you there, amid the general contempt, -the disagreeable publicity that will attend me; no, you will be far -better off away; I want you to go to Baie; you can remain there until the -issue of affairs is known; then, if favorable, you can come to me.” - -“I will obey you; I will go there if you wish it; but tell me one thing, -Rinaldo, I entreat you; are not those singular men who used to visit you, -the cause of this?” - -“Yes,” said he, hesitatingly, “they are.” - -“I knew it. I felt they came for no good purpose.” - -“Gentlemen,” said my husband, addressing the king’s officers, “will you -allow me a private conversation with my wife before I go?” - -“Certainly, monsieur,” replied the principal of the officers; and with -their officials they filed slowly from the apartment. The count, who had -not spoken during our dialogue, following them with a dejected air. When -the great door of the banqueting hall shut heavily behind them, Rinaldo, -as if overcome by this sudden, unlooked for misfortune, threw his arms -around me, and, weeping, kissed me. - -“Genevra, my poor Genevra, we are about to separate, and it may be you -will never see your unhappy husband again! I have not been to you the -kind husband I should have been; my conduct has often been harsh and -cruel: my love for you has been an enigma to myself. I have not acted -rightly towards you; and now, a strange fatality—as unlooked for as -strange—is about to tear me from you and that dear child.” - -Sighing, he kissed me again. - -“Let the past be forgotten and forgiven,” I answered, as I folded my arms -around his neck: “let it go; it is done; it is nothing; I have forgotten -it: only let me accompany you now. Why should sorrow separate a wife from -a husband? I can share imprisonment with you, and take Raphael with me: I -fear not its isolation, nor its gloom.” - -“No, no; do as I wish. What could be more brutal than to enclose in -prison walls a young woman and her child—shut out from God’s air and -human society! Go to Baie; you will not be far from me; you shall hear -from me often. Perhaps this unfortunate affair will be happily ended: -then, reunited, we will seek some new home—since this will no longer -acknowledge me as master; some sweet, quiet place, where our days shall -be spent more happily than the best part of our married life has been.” - -“But that prospect is far distant; perhaps it may never come; you may be -convicted of high treason; oh, heaven! you may be decapitated.” - -“Well, if that is my fate, I shall meet it bravely: I am not afraid to -die, let death come in what shape it will.” And he laughed recklessly. -“No, Genevra, I fear no such catastrophe; I shall be able to clear -myself: tremble not for me.” - -“How unfortunate this has been; how disastrous for you to have embarked -in this ill-omened business. Why did you do it?” - -“Talk not of that which is past, Genevra,” said he, with something of his -former sternness; “but come with me; the officials wait: let us bid each -other farewell at the bedside of my child.” - -He took my hand in his: the officials stationed without the door -respectfully made way for us; we ascended to our bedchamber, where, -slumbering in his oaken cradle, lay Raphael—his rosy hands crossed upon -his bosom, which rose and fell with his gentle breathing; his long night -robe hung without the cradle, and the calm little face, so innocent, so -passionless, expressed the unconscious happiness of infancy. A large -lamp, the shade depressed, to shield the glare of light from his eyes, -sat on a table near; and his nurse sat by the cradle side and watched -him—her strongly marked features of dusky hue, and fantastic dress, -thrown strongly into relief by the effect of the lamp. - -I sent her away, not wishing a witness of this scene; and my husband, -kneeling by the cradle, gently took up the child in his arms, but did -not awaken him; he still slept on. He looked at the babe long and -wistfully: his very soul seemed gushing into his eyes as he contemplated -the features of his son. He seemed looking forward into future years; he -seemed inspired; he took one of the little hands in his, and kissed it: -the child, with a slight start, withdrew it, and recrossed his arms on -his bosom. - -“Sweet little lamb, as yet innocent of guile, pure as thy Maker: of such, -if there is a heaven, should it be composed; sleep on, and mayst thou -ever remain as innocent as now.” - -His thoughts appeared too deep for words; he replaced the babe, laid its -satin coverlid over it, and rose on his feet, once more he wistfully -regarded it, then turned to me. - -“Let us kiss each other; adieu here, Genevra. You had better not come -down stairs again; those officials are rude sometimes, and I, being under -arrest, cannot protect you against whatever they choose to extend to -you. Farewell! you shall hear from me soon; be comforted, you know your -religion teaches you that out of much tribulation shall arise joy; be -comforted, all is not lost.” - -But I would not be put off with that abrupt farewell. I went down with -him into the lower hall, where, standing around on the marble floor, in -various attitudes, were the king’s functionaries. Count Calabrella had -offered large sums of money to the chief, making himself responsible for -Monsieur de Serval’s appearance for his trial in any state they should -name, but the men were inexorable. Their commands from government were -to bring him in person to Naples. No influence, no money could shield -him. The count was traversing the hall with hasty strides, and gloomy -expression of countenance, his steps resounding as he walked; seeing me -approach on Rinaldo’s arm, on which I leant heavily, he came towards us, -endeavoring to conceal his uneasiness by a forced smile. - -“This is a most singular affair. How came Alcantara to be detected?” he -inquired, speaking in a low tone. - -“The stupid fool had the impudence to boast of what we were doing in the -coffee houses, some persons informed the government, which led to my -exposure.” - -“I have been trying to persuade them to return alone, naming some day for -your appearance, promising to come with you myself, but they will not -consent,—what is to be done, my friend?” he anxiously inquired, looking -sorrowfully at Rinaldo. - -“What is to be done? why I am to go, of course, my dear Alfieri. Don’t be -annoyed, don’t be alarmed at this: you know I told you weeks ago I was -prepared for the worst: all that troubles me is the welfare of my wife -and child. This old castle, though partly ruinous, is still a home, but -even this I am obliged to part with. I sold it some days ago to a friend, -to raise money for this expedition; and that is also gone. She and the -infant must leave here; I wish you to attend her to Baie, where she will -be not far from Naples, and can hear from me often. Promise me to see her -safely there to-morrow.” - -“I will do all that mortal man can do for Madame de Serval, you may be -sure; whatever she wishes I will perform,” said the count, with fervor. - -“Thank the fates, then, I do not leave them friendless,—utterly uncared -for,” ejaculated Rinaldo. - -The chief of the officers now came out of the banqueting hall, and -whispered to my husband. - -“Very well,” said he in reply, “in an hour I shall be ready, if you wish -it, to start.” - -“In an hour! are you going in an hour?” I cried. “Oh cannot they stay -till to-morrow? do make them stay till then.” - -“To-morrow, child, to-morrow I shall be far away from you.” - -We three continued to walk up and down: I tearful, desponding; the count -abstracted, silent; Rinaldo with a sort of affected reckless gayety, -assumed, doubtless, to conceal his real feelings. The men were sent away -into the servants’ hall, and what little luggage my husband was allowed -to take with him, brought down. I imagined I had a world of things to say -in that hour, yet, when I went to speak, they escaped my recollection. I -could think of nothing but the suddenness of this separation, and my own -sad situation. The hour elapsed, it fled,—the man came to summon Rinaldo, -the carriage was ready, the luggage was placed behind, the officers got -into their carriages, the chief came to escort my husband to his! - -“I regret extremely that it should be my misfortune to convey such -disagreeable tidings, and to be the cause of bringing sorrow to such a -lady,” said the man, politely raising his cap to me. - -“It is not your fault; we excuse you; you merely act officially. If the -carriage is ready, I am. Proceed, sir.” - -I walked with him to the court yard, notwithstanding he cautioned me -not to do so, saying I would catch cold. Four carriages contained the -inferior men, and their principal occupied the same carriage with -my husband. He did not kiss me farewell there before others, but -relinquishing my hand with stoical energy, he entered it with his -companion, and closed the door. He shook hands convulsively with the -count, who went round to the carriage window to bid him adieu. I did not -move; I was riveted to the spot where I stood. The carriage started, it -whirled through the avenue, it passed the lodge, it was gone, the others -following it. When my eyes could no longer discern any traces of it; when -I was fully convinced that it was reality, no dream, but reality, stern -reality; I turned within the hall, went up stairs, fell upon my knees by -the child’s bedside, laid my cheek by his, and wept bitterly. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -Reason almost failed me, when I awoke the next day. I wandered into the -banqueting hall, calling for Rinaldo. The count followed me, entreated me -to recollect myself, to bear misfortunes with calmness, with fortitude; -asked what he could do for me. I answered not: I began to doubt my own -identity. I only remembered distinctly that I was to leave that day, to -go to Baie: every thing else seemed blank, intangible. - -I summoned Guilo to my salon, and told him that the castle was sold -by my husband to another, who would come in a few days to claim it. I -offered to pay his expenses to any city he chose to go, or he might stay -in the vicinity of the castle, and endeavor to obtain employment of the -new owner. He thanked me for my kindness to him, and said he preferred -remaining. The other domestics were sent away; my household was broken -up. Pasiphae determined to accompany my precarious fortunes as the -nurse of Raphael, and so all things being definitely arranged, Count -Calabrella, myself, Pasiphae, and my beloved babe, started that afternoon -for Baie. I, almost unconscious, allowed myself to be placed in the -barouche, and without looking back at those proud turrets and massive -walls, within whose confines I had passed two years of alternate joy and -grief, I was borne away. We rode all day. The count, anxious to beguile -me from sad thoughts, conversed charmingly, but though ever agreeable -and fascinating, yet my mind was too pre-occupied to listen, and the -object so kindly intended failed of its purpose; nor did my melancholy -abstraction cease, when, on the second day of our travel, we entered Baie. - -Oh, Baie! classic, beautiful, time-honored Baie! when again shall I -revisit thy tranquil, lovely shores? when again shall I gaze upon thy -pellucid waters, or roam over thy gentle, verdant hills, once the home -of happy thousands,—thrilling with life, hope, perhaps happiness,—now -silent, deserted; the seat of ruins, the abode of solitary peasants, who -lead their flocks over the spot where once rose stately Roman villas, -temples, theatres, and all the haunts of what _was_ human vanity and -life;—all which have faded into fragments, into dust, leaving those few -remains to tell that the tide of human life had once passed there. - -“Why am I not also gone?” thought I despondingly, as the barouche -rolled over the smooth road, among the ruins. “Why do I still live on, -unfortunate, unhappy? my husband arrested for high treason; myself and -child alone and desolate; our home lost to us forever! What has the -future for me but disappointment, continued isolation and my child, my -Raphael! what is to become of him?” - -The stopping of the carriage aroused me from my gloomy reflections. It -paused at a small cottage kept as a place of accommodation for strangers. -Tired, faint, and weary, I found myself in the parlor of this rustic -abode, scarce knowing where I was. The apartments were comfortable and -scrupulously clean, but in contrast to the elegant home I had just left, -they appeared contemptible to me. An image of the virgin stood in one -corner, under it a crucifix: some pictures decorated the plastered walls, -and flowers were trained to creep outside the latticed windows;—a gaily -colored parrot, in a gilded cage, mockingly imitated our words, repeating -them after us in playful tones: the hostess, a peasant vinter’s wife, -came courtesying in to receive us, wearing a Neapolitan dress, which -reminded me forcibly of Naples. The domestics of the castle, wearing -another style, embarrassed and awkward at the sight of one, so far -superior in worldly station. Ah! how far happier, if they did but know -it, are those lowly ones of earth! how quiet; how untinctured by ambition -are their lives! Very little envy is theirs; very little of those fierce -hatreds we see in society! Calm, peaceful, obscure, they walk to their -graves, seldom known; seldom wishing to be known, yet often tasting much -real, substantial happiness. - -The count explained that I wished apartments for myself, nurse, and -child, and the woman left the room to prepare them. - -“And you, my friend,” I said to him, “you also are going to stay here?” - -“Until to-morrow I shall have that honor,” said he, “but after that I -shall not have the pleasure of being near you.” - -“Oh!” I cried, “will you also desert me? shall I be utterly alone?” - -“Alone! oh, no! not all alone with the companionship of your own sweet -thoughts and your lovely child. Do not grieve; to meet to separate is the -inevitable law of nature. Why should we cavil at that we cannot change? -Existence is, as I have often told you, a play, a farce;—do not let us be -its most miserable actors. Your husband will doubtless be liberated soon. -You will be restored to him;—life will put forth new buds and blossoms -from its giant tree. In his renewed affection you will find new joys; and -I shall pursue my solitary travels, rejoicing at your happiness.” - -“But if you were not there, the measure of our joy would be incomplete. -If what you predict comes to pass, will not you partake of our joy?” - -“I! what shall I be to you but a strange dream, associated with unhappy -circumstances, disagreeable to your memory? I shall have been but the -witnesser of one of those vicissitudes of fortune, which always fall to -the lot of the talented and beautiful. No! I had better be forgotten. To -be forgotten! how mortifying is the reflection. Yet, has it not always -been the law of destiny?” - -“Do not philosophize now; let us be matter of fact. I thought, when my -husband was so cruelly taken away, that you, who have always been so -kind, would be spared me—at least for some time—till I should recover a -little from this violent shock; but I am disappointed in this, as in all -other things.” - -“Lady,” said he, bending a piercing glance upon me from his expressive -eyes, “the request you make would be as dangerous to myself (if granted), -as it would be useless to you. The charms of your person, your judgment -and talent, I appreciate to their fullest extent, and nothing could give -me more delight than to revel in the sunshine of such presence; but that -enjoyment would be as injurious to you as perfidious in me to my friend.” - -The sad tones of his voice and significant manner of expression, did -not allow me to misunderstand him. In my careless innocence I never -recollected the cruel interpretation malice would put upon such -companionship. - -“My departure,” he continued, “will be all the more advantageous to -you, since to-morrow I will proceed immediately to Naples, and perhaps, -through intercession with his Majesty, be the means of liberating your -husband. I shall, of course, see him immediately, wherever he is, and -write you a description of affairs.” - -He became silent, and mechanically stroked my infant’s rosy, downy -cheeks. The vinter’s wife came tripping into the room, saying she would -attend me to the apartments. Pasiphae, sad and quiet, preceded me, -carrying Raphael; the count remained absorbed in thought. The rustic -stairs were climbed, and with many low courtesies I was ushered into a -large chamber, in which I noticed nothing but an immense fauteuil, into -which I sank mechanically, completely overpowered. After making numerous -demonstrations of respect and duty, the hostess withdrew. - -In the meantime, Raphael, who had slept nearly all the way from the -Chateau of the Ravine, awoke from the slumber in which he had been wrapt -all day, and looked inquiringly for me. I took him in my arms and kissed -him. The little one laid his tiny hands on my face and raised his large -eyes wistfully to mine. He was too young to miss his father, or know that -father’s fate,—that unhappy, wayward man who now inhabited, perhaps, a -prison’s gloom: and as I childishly toyed with the ribbons of his dress -and watched the light and play of his features, I wished—oh! what does -not a mother wish? - -I did not go down stairs again that afternoon and evening; but I -distinctly heard the footsteps of the count as he continued to pace the -floor of the lower room till a late hour. My own heart was the prey of -contending emotions—of conflicting thoughts. Raphael fell asleep on my -breast—his tiny hand clasped in mine—with an expression of conscious -happiness on his smiling countenance. I fixed my gaze upon a crucifix -which hung in a corner, and invoked to my support that invisible -influence whom we worship in an earthly form. I conjured up before me -visions of persecuted martyrs, dying saints, nuns devoted alone to the -service of God; but, in spite of myself, other thoughts came stealing -over me, and the recollections of the happy days of love and sunshine I -had passed during the first part of my married life, were mingled with -regrets at my husband’s misfortunes. - -A glorious morning sun beaming through the lattice, awoke me at an -early hour; a beautiful landscape met my eyes on going to the window; -it commanded a view of the sea coast, which was not far distant; and I -beheld with delight the blue rolling waves of the ocean, crested with -foam, and swelling proudly as they rolled onward, and came and beat -against the rocks on the shore, with a hoarse echoing sound; the high -cliffs at the water’s edge, matted into quiet unassuming hills as they -disappeared in the distance. The light fishing skiffs of the fishermen, -chained to the shore, danced on the bosom of the blue waters, and the -joyous song of the men as they drew in their nets, was wafted to my ears -by the clear morning breeze. The shepherds and their flocks browsing on -the hill tops, diminished by distance to the size of mice, were dimly -visible. On that classic, quiet shore, silence and repose kept vigils -gentle and imposing as such presence should be. - -When I descended I found the count below in the parlor; he said his sleep -had been disturbed by dismal dreams, and his sad face bore testimony to -his words. After breakfast, at which little was said, he proposed a walk -on the beach; mechanically I consented, put on my bonnet and shawl, and -we went forth together. - -We pursued a path through a small forest of palm, linden, and fir trees; -their thick shade formed an impenetrable bower, relieved at their base -by wild flowers of every description; the meandering course of numerous -rivulets ran through the wood. - -We continued on, the count occasionally making some remark about the -beauty of the scenery, to which I responded by monosyllables; my mind -was too intensely absorbed to talk. The forest was passed: the sun broke -brightly from a cloud, and the beach and the murmuring waves lay before -us; a small schooner, contending against the tide, was drifting slowly -along. - -“That bark, struggling for anchorage, is like your life, dear lady; -now it rises, now falls amid the waters; the sails gathered in, the -pilot endeavoring to gain a position of safety; presently she will rest -quietly, securely anchored on the bosom of the bay; so will it be, I -predicate, of thee.” - -“God grant it may,” I murmured. - -As he said, after many tacks and manœuvres, the little bark succeeded in -gaining safe anchorage, where riding tranquilly it rested. The birds of -the ocean surrounded it, flapping their wings, and making the air resound -with their mournful cries. - -A road wound along the shore, bordered by a footpath: on this we wandered -at random, stooping sometimes to pick the flowers strewing the way. The -count philosophized on nature in his sweet voice, and nature smiled upon -us wearing her fairest dress; at last, after we had gone some distance, -he looked at his watch. - -“The hour has come, dear lady, I must go: the carriage will be at the -house to bear me away, and your forebodings will be relieved when I shall -arrive at Naples and write you.” - -Seeing that he was really bent on going, we retraced our steps to the -house; the barouche which brought us was already there; he did not enter -the dwelling, but pressing my hand with earnest fervor, stepped into it -and drove away. - - * * * * * - -A week of quiet daily routine, and intense mental anxiety, succeeded the -count’s departure; the days sped slowly in monotonous regularity; the -nights were lonely, and would have been terrible had it not been for my -child and faithful servant. - -The evening of the sixth day after he went to Naples, I was sitting at -the window of my room abstractedly gazing on vacancy, when I saw a man -rapidly approaching on horseback, urging his spurs into the animal’s -sides, and moving his arms in such a ridiculous manner, that, had my -mind been at ease, I should have laughed at his absurd gestures; but in -my grief they were unnoticed; suddenly reining in his horse at the door, -he handed a letter to the peasant, who was taking his siesta before the -door, and rode away as rapidly as he had come; the man brought it to me, -and I eagerly, yet tremblingly, opened it and devoured the contents; it -was from my husband, superscribed in the count’s handwriting, and as -follows: - - “_Barberinni Prison, June 11th._ - - “DEAREST GENEVRA:— - - “Count Calabrella will find means to send you this. Were it not - for him you would hear nothing of my condition, as I am under - such close surveillance that nothing concerning me escapes - suspicion. The principal agent in this sad affair exposed all - by his blunders, and this has brought me, perhaps, to a felon’s - death. It is not known when my trial will take place,—I hope - soon, as I have secured powerful mediation in my behalf. These - prisons are dark and cold—frightful from their solitude. I - sit in one corner of my cell and write this by the light of a - lantern, while the count waits to take it away. I wish I could - see my boy again; but the strange inexorable fate which has - pursued me from my earliest years will probably continue its - malice to the close of my life. Farewell,—farewell,—take care - of yourself,—remain at Baie till the result of this is known. - You shall hear from me soon again. - - “Yours till death, - - SERVAL.” - -This strange epistle, written on a piece of paper evidently torn from -some book, and almost illegible from blots and blurs, was too general -and incoherent to satisfy me. Perhaps, for fear of being surprised by -the jailor or some of the officials, he was unable to write more; yet he -told me of nothing that had transpired. Perhaps it would have harrowed my -heart too much had he told me all,—he wished to spare me the sorrow. - -Then came a note, within the other, from Count Calabrella. - - “MOST RESPECTED LADY:— - - “Immediately upon my arrival I asked permission to be admitted - to see your husband, but was refused the favor, and only - obtained it yesterday through the intercession of a cardinal of - the church, a friend of mine. I then hastened to see Monsieur - de Serval. I found him sad, but not as desponding as I had - expected. Of course you can imagine what was said of you,—and - I should be rude to repeat to you what you will have already - anticipated. We then conversed upon this ill-fated affair. - I told him that Alcantara was arrested, of which fact he - was ignorant,—the minor confederates had fled. We conferred - as to what was best to be done; and I decided on soliciting - the intercession of the foreign ministers, and some of the - cardinals, together with as many others as I could secure. - - “When I left him I hastened to the house of the French - minister. I was admitted to an audience. He received me most - politely,—listened attentively to my explanation of the facts - of the case, (which it is needless to trouble you with,)—I - entreated him to interest himself for his countryman. He did - not definitely say he would, but deferred the question for - reconsideration. I think, however, I shall be able to persuade - him into doing something. I have secured the interests of - several cardinals, and intend to do much more before the trial - comes on. Believe me, every thing that is within the range - of human possibility shall be done. I do not despair: and I - entreat you, also, to be consoled,—to hope. - - “Yours in faith, - - CALABRELLA.” - -This letter partially revived my drooping spirits, for it breathed -hope and elasticity of mind. My husband’s was gloomy, but that was -attributable to his unhappy situation. I had expected an explanation,—I -received only general assurances of brighter times, which to me seemed -far distant,—dubious,—if not impossible. - -I resigned myself to the course of circumstances, and patiently abided my -time. Beautiful sunny days, and moonlight nights, fell upon Baie at that -time,—the warm, bright glow of the sun, and the calm sweet light of the -moon was soothing as its rays. I often walked, beneath its light, up and -down the road on which the house faced. - -One evening I started before sunset and walked in the direction of some -curious ruins, situated on a cliff on the shores; the road diverged in -a fork leading down to the beach. I preferred this walk and followed -it; when I had walked some distance I reached the beach, the waters now -quietly swelling and falling beneath the brilliant rays of the sun; -the road was thickly strewn with shells, some of which I picked up and -examined; then, my mind naturally running back to philosophy, I compared -human life, human joys, human expectations, to those shells at my -feet, and those ruins on the cliff before me. As the light played upon -the broken archway, the desolate court-yard, the ruined chambers, the -falling turrets, I felt my old feelings of gloom and morbid thought come -wandering back. - -I ascended the hill by a beaten pathway, and wandered in and around the -little temple; myself and my thoughts were the only inhabitants of the -place. I gathered a bouquet of flowers and was preparing to return, the -moon having now arisen: when, glancing up at the sky, I saw that which -had been a few moments before so serene, dark and lowering; the horizon -obscured by immense black clouds, which were rapidly spreading over the -sky; heavy gusts were borne bellowing along, and the glaring foam of the -waves was visible faraway. - -It was impossible to take the beach road under such circumstances, the -tide having arisen, I was in danger of drowning; it was impossible to -go through the woods the other side of the ruins, I was in danger of -being lost in their density. I knew not what to do: meanwhile the sky -continued to darken; the moon was completely overcast; the wind continued -to howl around me; the only thing to do was to remain in the temple, and -claim the precarious benefit of its shelter. I could scarcely see to -re-enter the ruins, and seated myself on a broken column in their midst; -everything was buried in stones and darkness; the gloom was so intense I -felt it. - -The storm increased rapidly; the waves lashed to fury, broke against -the rocks with a roaring noise; the waves in the distance shone with -phosphoric light; the clouds swept hither and thither over the face -of the sky; now in tremendous masses, now scattered, white, dim and -ghostlike; such a scene as this, was calculated to inspire any one with -horror, and the blood ran cold in my veins, as I sat and listened. - -Thus it raged for I know not how long: I could not reckon time in such -a place. I thought it must be two hours. Then another sound was mingled -with the gale: a strange crashing, a wild unearthly yell rang out on -the storm; then all was absorbed in the rushing gale. Presently another -interval of calm succeeded to the hellish sounds, when the waves and -winds apparently paused to take breath, and gather their strength for -another onset. The uproar of echoes, reverberating around me, was -frightful; I almost thought demons from a lower world were playing their -fantastic tricks within the old ruins. The weather during the day had -been delightful, but the storm had rendered the air severe; and, as I sat -shivering on the column, my hair standing on end, and teeth chattering -with fear, the moon momentarily broke through the clouds, and disclosed -the lurid landscape, strange and unearthly looking by the mysterious -light. I could not express on paper the agony I suffered, till by the -faint streaks of morning light in the east, I perceived day would soon -dawn. The roar of the gale gradually subsided, the clouds became less -strongly dark, the ocean’s waves less tumultuous; and an hour afterward, -when I could fully perceive objects, I saw the light of day; and it shone -upon a strange scene! When assured that the danger was over, I summoned -strength to rise; my trembling limbs almost refused to support me. I -wished to return to the house, anxious about my child. Walking down the -hill towards the beach, my attention was attracted by pieces of spars, -rigging, and a small boat stranded by the waves; this explained to me -the horrid sound I had heard during the storm. A ship had been wrecked -off the coast, which in that part abounded in breakers; numerous other -objects now caught my astonished eyes: a little farther on a number of -bales and some personal property lay scattered about; an object clothed -in white, was stretched across my way; going towards it I knelt down and -sought to distinguish what it was; it was a corpse, a female form; the -drapery concealed the face. I raised the robe from the countenance, and -beheld! yes,—no,—yes—it _was_ Blanche! - -Blanche! Great heaven! what could it mean? Yes, it was her! There she -was dead: the same calm, sweet features; the same graceful form, dressed -in white; the fair arms crossed on the breast. From the position in -which I found her, she seemed not to have made the slightest effort to -save herself: the angels of heaven seemed to have fanned her with their -wings,—so innocently calm, so pure looked she. But how came she on board -this unhappy bark? Where was she going to? I had supposed that when she -fled from Naples, it was to some foreign land, not to remain in Italy. -And where was her lover? I resolved to leave the body, and go to some -fishermen’s huts on the cliff behind the ruin, and seek assistance, to -have the body conveyed to town. As I prepared to do so, several other -bodies presented themselves to my gaze, and in the corpse of a man, -lying with his face exposed, I recognized Lord Glenfell. He was dressed -in royal blue cloth, such as he had always worn (preserving his English -customs) at Naples. One hand was buried in his bosom, the other hung -stiff and cold by his side; and even in death he retained his perfect -beauty. This unexpected, incomprehensible event, coming so suddenly upon -me, after my own sorrows, and the fright from the storm, overpowered me, -and sitting down on a fragment of stone, I wept over the bodies. Along -the beach for a quarter of a mile the wreck was strewed in confusion: -masts, cargo, rigging, luggage, all lay in different positions. The -principal part of the passengers and crew probably had perished. One or -two bodies came floating along as I franticly rushed up the hill again, -in the direction of the fisher’s huts. They were not there when I reached -them:—gone, an old woman told me, to plunder the wreck. She and a young -girl were the only occupants of the tent, and I earnestly entreated -them to return with me to the shore, and carry the body of Blanche to -their house, to remain there till I could obtain assistance from Baie. -They consented to accompany me, and we returned together, they talking -incessantly about the storm and the wreck, wondering what the name of -the vessel was, and whence it came. The bodies were undisturbed when I -reached them. The woman, apparently used to such scenes, carelessly took -up the inanimate form of my beloved friend, and strode away to the house -again, while the girl remained to watch that of Lord Glenfell’s. - -Meanwhile the sun had fully risen, and threw his golden rays on the -scene. The waves had subsided somewhat: they were growing calmer. The sky -was bright and glowing: the hues of morning lit up the shores. - -The wreckers were busy at their plunder, wretchedly dressed; some of them -in tatters, running here and there: even the dead bodies they spared not. -The girl sat down on the sand near the gurgling waves, and I, standing on -my feet, regarded the fair young Englishman. His eyes, which in life had -been a soft brilliant blue, were wide open, and their unnatural glare -startled me. The deadly pallor of his features, and the languid air his -form and face bore, too surely showed that life was not there. Presently -the old woman returned, and with the aid of her husband, an athletic -peasant, they raised the corpse, and I and the girl following, went back -whence we came. - -They laid the two beautiful, yet guilty lovers, side by side on a rustic -bed, poor and lowly as the lot of them to whom it belonged. Then the -woman began to wash away the sand which thickly obscured their faces, -and gathered on their clothes, all the while uttering sad cries that two -so beautiful should die. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I turned to the -peasant, and asked him if he could proceed immediately to my house at -Baie, and procure biers to take the bodies thither, and tell my maid and -some of the peasants there to come also? He replied with alacrity that he -would, and departed. - -When the sand and red clay of the shore was entirely cleared from their -persons, I regarded the corpses more attentively. Two years had not -changed my Blanche; she was as beautiful as in those times past, when we -sang together at Naples. I remembered the night of her departure, and -her nocturnal farewell—so sad, so strange. Where had she gone then, and -whither was she going now in this ship? Perhaps again to Parthenope, when -the scissors of the fatal sisters, cut short the thread of her days. Oh! -unhappy fate,—sad destiny. - -Lord Glenfells then continued faithful to his vows of faith and love. Oh! -marvellous instance of attachment in a man, that his love should last two -years. Perhaps, if there were more women like her, their love would last -longer. Together they had died, and now it was my sad task to see them -buried amid the wild, romantic scenery of Baie. - -I was alone with the bodies for more than an hour, ere the peasant came -back with my poor, astonished Pasiphae, accompanied by several men, -bearing hand biers. News of the shipwreck had reached the town, and great -fear had been entertained lest some evil had befallen me, as hour after -hour passed away, and I came not, and the terrible storm arose. Great -was their amazement when they beheld me watching two corpses, and when -they saw the agony imprinted on my face. The sympathizing Pasiphae threw -herself at my feet, and weepingly buried her face in the folds of my robe. - -“This is a most inexplicable affair, my poor Pasiphae,” said I. “I will -tell you some other time. I could not return to you last evening. I spent -the night in the ruins of the temple to avoid the storm. I wish to get -home quickly.” - -“The sweet child wept much last night, my lady, but I hushed him to sleep -at last,” said my faithful servant. - -I turned to the men, who had placed upon the bier Lord Glenfells and his -beautiful Blanche, and after paying the women for their attention, the -mournful cortege set out. - -We took the road along the beach to the fork, whence it diverged to the -house; then following that, we soon arrived at home. The women came -rushing to the door to see so strange a sight, and scarce believed their -eyes when they beheld what I brought. They were carried up stairs into an -empty room, next to mine, placed on a bed, covered with a white coverlid; -and I left the room, locking the door and taking the key with me. I -returned to my child. - - * * * * * - -I buried them at Baie. They have a lonely grave on that rock-bound coast, -at the top of the cliff on which the ruined temple of fortune stands. The -ocean’s waves wash the base of the rocks, and the flowers and trees are -gathered thickly around it. No splendid monument marks the last repose of -one of England’s brightest, handsomest sons;—no inscription tells of the -fair, ill-fated songstress. Her death, like her life, was isolated. But -her memory at least is still fondly cherished by one who knew and loved -her well. - -When last I visited their graves, I found them overgrown with -flowers,—odorous and beautiful as had been the character of Blanche. -There the rose, the acacia, japonica, myrtle, and cypress, form unfading -bowers, unfailing mourners, over their graves. When the sea is calm, -the quiet murmur of its waves seems to utter unknown regrets. In storms -their swelling tumult sounds like a requiem. Vain would it be for me -to describe the many sad hours I passed there, silently offering as an -ovation the grief of a sincere heart. During my stay at Baie, not a day -elapsed but found me a visiter there. There the sadness of the scene -taught me to moderate my own regrets,—taught me to uplift my heart to -God,—taught me to be humble, thankful, and resigned. - -A month passed without my hearing anything farther from my husband or -Count Calabrella. I was terribly anxious: I dreaded lest something of a -frightful character had happened, and that they feared to tell me it. I -sometimes walked half the night up and down my room, conjuring my brains -to imagine the reasons of this mysterious silence; but I could bring my -mind to no clear explanation. I could resolve on nothing; everything -was dark to me. At length the dreaded, yet wished for explanation came. -Another courier came with another letter, which I have still preserved. -I submit it to you:— - - “I have made my escape. I have left Naples and Italy for ever. - Had I awaited my trial, I know I should have been utterly - lost. I jeoparded my life in getting out of prison; but am - safe now. I release you from all faith, all allegiance to me; - forget me: heaven never intended us for each other. Return to - the gay world: may you be happy. Kiss my child for me. I had - a presentiment, when I stood over his cradle, that I should - never see him more: his baby-features are imprinted on my soul; - they will only be obliterated when I shall cease to breathe. - Remember me in those prayers you so fervently offer to your - God, and may that God watch over you. - - “I go to seek a new fortune in some foreign land; as yet I know - not where: everything in the future is dark and uncertain. - Farewell! Farewell! - - SERVAL.” - -When I had read this strange epistle, and fully comprehended it, I -remained petrified with amazement: the tone of it was so reckless, -wild—almost incoherent—I scarcely believed it to be my husband’s. He gave -me up; he told me to forget him; to return to the world I had quitted for -him. He seemed to write without feeling any regret, any sadness at this -eternal separation. His child alone elicited a sentiment of humanity; and -this was all the reward I received for the forbearance I had manifested -toward him,—the devotion I had practiced for more than two years to that -unhappy man. I was thrown off—cast away! - -After reflection, I resolved to go to Naples to learn something definite. -Our travelling arrangements were soon made, and the following afternoon -we left Baie. - -The classic ruins, the ocean, the beautiful shore, and the graves of -Blanche and Lord Glenfells, were soon lost to my longing eyes, in the -windings of the road. The town, the mountains, sea, rivulets, ruins and -all, were enveloped in the blue mists of heaven. - -The next day I again beheld the fair city of Naples rising on the hill, -with her lofty towers, gardens, churches, castles and splendid private -dwellings, rearing their superb height one above the other; and again I -drove through the beautiful street Toledo. I hastened to the house of -Madame Bonni; but two years had created changes in Naples. The good woman -was gone, and another dwelt in her house. I secured apartments, however, -in one of the most retired hotels, and then sent for the Court Guide, to -ascertain the residence of Count Calabrella, whom I regarded as my only -friend in this great trouble; it was brought, and after ascertaining his -address, I sent mine to him. - -He came immediately. When he entered my parlour I rushed toward him, and -showing him the letter I held in my hand, exclaimed: - -“Is this true? Oh! tell me, dear count, is it true?” - -“Be calm, dear lady, I entreat you; be composed; this is an unexpected -meeting. I had intended coming to you at Baie to-morrow to tell you the -strange news.” - -“But tell me, I entreat you, is it true? has my husband really escaped -from prison? has he left me in this way?” - -“He has escaped, and gone I know not where. Three days ago I visited him -to tell him some favorable news regarding himself; he seemed cheerful; -spoke much of you, and confidently of the result of the trial. Yesterday -it was noised abroad that he had fled from Naples; doubting whether it -was not mere rumor, I inquired, and found it true: it astonished me much. -Knowing your husband’s determined character, I had been actively engaged -in obtaining all the influence I could in his favor. I doubt not, myself, -had he awaited his trial, it would have terminated favorably.” - -“Gone! gone!” I cried—thinking only of the desertion—“for ever gone! and -what is to become of me and the child?” - -“Don’t give way to grief, madame; be comforted; you will find numerous -friends: those who have known and loved you before your marriage.” - -“Oh, count! I feel as if this were the acme of my misfortunes!” - -“I know life has had many changes for you; but sorrow will not last for -ever; and destiny sometimes presents a pleasant face.” - -Thus for an hour he endeavored to divert my mind from dwelling with -too much intensity on this inexplicable affair; but in vain did I try -to talk or think of something else; and he, perceiving the abstraction -of my thoughts, probably thought that quiet and repose would be the -best consolers at that moment: and, after repeated adjurations to be -calm, to hope, he went away. I appreciated the delicacy of his behavior -in not reverting to any thing that could pain me: he had impressed me -agreeably at first, and acquaintance had not dissipated that impression. -I was determined, however, to learn more concerning my husband; and -that day calling a calesso, bade him drive to the Barberinni prison. It -was situated in an obscure quarter of the city, down near the harbor, -surrounded by dark and dirty looking buildings on all sides, and itself -presenting an appearance of dark, impenetrable gloom. I alighted and -entered the keeper’s room, where he sat, amid old papers of all -descriptions, reading from a great book, which looked to me like a -ledger. Great bunches of keys adorned the smoked walls, dirty and old as -their proprietor; and an old writing-desk stood in one corner, with a -high stool before it. - -He rose civilly as I entered, and asked in what he could please me. I -told him that I had come to ask the particulars of my husband’s escape; -and then informed him that I was the wife of Monsieur de Serval. He -seemed surprised at that; and, on my requesting to be shown my husband’s -cell, immediately acquiesced, locking the door of his stronghold previous -to accompanying me. - -We threaded several long stone galleries, off which, on either side, -opened the doors of the cells. Then we descended a long flight of stairs; -then came another gallery; then he paused, and unlocked an iron door, and -ushered me into the dreary cell, lighted by one window, in which Rinaldo -had written me the letter I received at Baie. One of the iron bars of -the window was gone; the keeper pointed to it, and said: “Through that -aperture your husband made his escape two nights ago. I know not how he -obtained possession of the file with which he sawed apart the bar; but he -did so, and swam probably to the opposite shore: at any rate, nothing has -been learned of him, though government has sent spies every where to look -for him.” I looked down at the stone pavement at my feet—and up at the -dim light above my head—and soliloquized, that a month in a dungeon like -that must be equivalent to ten years in the world. - -“Did no one come to see my husband during his imprisonment?” I asked, -wishing to learn if any one besides Count Calabrella had visited him. - -“A tall, dark gentleman came often, and once another man came, but he -wore a cloak, and I could not see his face; as he presented a permit, I -admitted him.” - -“That must have been the man who was accessary to his departure,” thought -I: and having nothing farther to say to the keeper, I left the cell and -returned to the carriage, and was driven home to the hotel. - -All the inquiries I made were baffled; all my suppositions were useless; -nothing further concerning my husband’s dubious fate was learned. I -found myself once more thrown out on the world, obliged to resort to my -musical talents for a support. The old manager of the San Carlo, hearing -I wished to return to the stage, called on me, and I entered into an -engagement with him to perform in one of my old operas. I cannot describe -the heartaches I experienced at being obliged to resume the laborious and -distasteful profession I had so gladly resigned: but something must be -done;—I could not remain idle;—I knew of no other means by which I could -maintain myself as well as by singing, and therefore decided on that. - -The night of my reappearance, a crowded house awaited me: and the -Austrian nightingale, in her misfortunes, was more admired than had been -the gay Genevra; yet could those brilliant crowds have looked into my -heart, and have seen the bitter sadness imprinted there, even my rivals -would have pitied me; but the world only beheld the celebrated beauty, -the great singer, and my rivals could see nothing; their envy blinded -them. My only joy was to return from those crowded houses; to run away -from the plaudits of the multitude, the dubious admiration of the men, -the patronizing envy of the women, and bury myself in the solitude of -my own room; devote myself to my smiling, happy boy. It was generally -understood that I denied myself to all visitors, consequently I was -not annoyed by any of those disagreeable attentions so often extended -to actresses. I even wished to deny myself to the count, dreading -the consequences of such companionship; but gratitude forbade such -incivility, and he came. - -One evening Raphael had fallen asleep on a sofa, after creeping about -on the floor till sleep overcame him. His pretty mouth, like a blooming -rose-bud, was half open, showing two new teeth, and his long white robe -swept along the sofa as he lay;—as I sat near him, listening to his -gentle breathing, I heard a light step on the carpet, and turning, saw -the count. He sat down on the sofa, at the feet of Raphael, and looking -at him, said: - -“How sweetly he slumbers; how innocent is the sleep of a child.” - -“Yes, their unsuspicious innocence is a charming attribute which they -soon lose.” - -I never could raise my eyes when the count was present without -encountering his fixed gaze, and I met it now as I looked up from my -child. He turned his away as I did so, and turned his hat from one hand -to the other with a confused air. - -“Can nothing be thought of? can nothing be done, to find out something -more about Monsieur de Serval?” I suddenly inquired, reminded more -strongly by the presence of the count of my unhappy lord. - -“Everything that the ingenuity of the government could devise, or I, -or others, suggest to find him out, has been done, but in vain. He has -baffled pursuit. Perhaps some day in future will find you reunited to -him on some fair isle, of which you and your child will form the Venus -and Cupid, your husband the Mars: then, in those days of sunshine, all -recollections of unhappy hours will be forgotten: that will be another -sphere of existence.” - -“It is very kind of you to re-assure me, but I am convinced that will -never be.” - -“It is possible, and whatever is possible is probable; as for me,” he -continued, “I wonder what fate has in store for me; a life of loneliness -I suppose, as it always has been, travelling, wandering alone.” - -“Oh, say not so,” I cried, and anxious to soothe, I laid my hand on his; -“not if you were near me, should you be lonely; friend to me and my -husband, I would always cheer you.” - -“You,” he exclaimed, catching my hand; “oh, heaven itself would seem -to dawn upon me, could I always be near you as I am now.” Then, as if -amazed at the fervor with which he had spoken, he dropped my hand, and -confusedly looked down. An agitated silence followed: this singular -avowal had been so abrupt, it startled me into a tumult of thoughts I had -not dreamed of for a long time past: my cheeks blushed carnation hues as -I looked away; my confusion, however, did not last long, for the count, -as if struggling against some feeling he wished to hide, rose abruptly, -and ejaculated, as if with an effort, - -“I have alarmed you; I have acted foolishly; but God knows it was -involuntary; I did not intend to wound your feelings; forgive me, dear -Lady Genevra, forgive me; good night.” He extended his small, thin hand -for mine; with my head averted, I placed mine within his. He shook it -gently, and when I looked up he was gone. Oh, how fervently I wished I -had a right ever to retain that hand, ever to lean on that arm, and gaze -into those star-lit eyes; to feel that some one human being on earth -cared for me, was true to me, would not desert me or disdain my love. -Oh, how I wished for that faithful heart. And then to think I had found -it, but under such circumstances that it was guilt itself to think of -it! Had I not better determine never to see him again, to deny myself -the siren-like attraction which was drawing me I know not where? Ought -I not to think of my husband, to mourn his loss, regret his destiny? -Yet he had himself bade me forget him, abandon all allegiance to him, -be happy without him. What was to become of me? whither should I turn -for consolation? Monsieur Belmont had gone to Paris, to direct the opera -there; Madame Bonni had left the city; sweet Blanche was dead, and Inez -far away. Oppressed with these thoughts, I sank into a reverie, when my -child stirred, and turning, I took him in my arms. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -In my loneliness I reminded me of the words of the superior of the -convent of Sacre Cœur, and resolved to visit her. The same nun admitted -me, and I again found myself in the little convent parlor. - -Presently I heard the rustling silk dress, and the superior stood before -me. Her features bore the same calm expression of severity; her manner -the same impressive solemnity. She immediately recognised me, and -pressing my hand, almost cordially said, - -“Well, daughter, I see you again; you have remembered me; and how fares -the world with thee? has not its hollow-heartednesss already tired you?” - -“I feel tired of it sometimes, mother, and remembering the invitation to -visit you, which you gave me two years age, I have come.” - -“You have done rightly, daughter: I am glad to see you. I think you told -me you were a catholic; I hope you still remain faithful to our blessed -faith?” - -“It has often been a consolation to me in much trouble.” - -I was about to enter into more general conversation, when other visitors -came, and I took leave, the Superior cordially bidding me adieu, and -inviting me to come to mass in the chapelle of the Sisters. - -Thinking upon the solitude of a convent life—the austerity of such -an existence—I sought my room, where I found the count playing with -Raphael’s baby-rattle to amuse him. He came toward me, as if doubtful of -his reception after the incident of our last meeting; but forgetting the -slight peak I then felt—thinking only of the happiness of seeing him—I -smiled and extended my hand. - -“You see I have been endeavoring to amuse little Raphael during your -absence.” - -“For which I am very much obliged;” and not knowing what to say—for his -presence, of late, always embarrassed me—I sat down on the sofa, and as -the infant began to cry, told Pasiphae to take it away, which she did, -and we were left alone, I turned, momentarily, to look from the window on -the busy street: an audible sigh fell on my ear, when I turned round, the -count was at my feet. - -“Genevra! Let me call you by that name,” said he. “Why should I seek to -conceal a passion which I know you must have already discovered? why -should I hesitate to declare that, of all the women I have ever seen -in all the lands I have ever been, I single you out as the fairest, the -noblest of all; that when I first saw you in the opera, I was struck -with your beauty, and afterwards in that lonely castle, where you led so -isolated a life, a personal acquaintance did not dispel that illusion. -Now, when I see you struggling against the adverse tide of life—forsaken -by your husband,—surrounded by envy, with no happiness save the society -of your child,—why will you not let me consecrate to your pleasure a soul -which would be only too happy to dedicate itself to you? Why will you -evade my sympathy? Why not let me be the sharer of those sorrows which -you try to conceal?” - -“Oh, count!” I cried, bursting into tears, as he held my hands; “you must -not talk thus to me; remember I am a married woman; respect my situation. -Whatever may be my sentiments toward you, I must smother them, and you, -for my sake, must do the same.” - -“I? No, never can I do that! your sweet image is too deeply impressed -upon my heart: there shall it remain a sacred solace to me. Oh! why did -we not meet before your marriage, when you first made your appearance -here? why do we only understand each other when it is too late?” - -“Yes; ask the question of fate: in vain have I demanded it. Why do I -continually long for a shade which eludes my grasp? Why does solitude -ever haunt my footsteps?” - -“But I offer you society, happiness; everything on earth that I can -command shall be yours. Has not your husband deserted you? what faith do -you owe to him? If you returned my love; if you would honor me by your -confidence, imagine, my Genevra, what days of happiness might be in store -for us.” - -“Count!” I exclaimed, clasping both hands before my eyes, “forbear: I -pray you forbear. I do like you, I acknowledge it; but this must be -our last meeting. This must be the first, last, only expression of my -feelings; and I feel I am doing wrong even in saying this. Consider, -what happiness could I feel in doing anything that could reflect upon -my character, hitherto so unblemished? What joy could I experience in a -future clouded with shame? How differently should I regard you from that -calm-abiding sentiment of security with which a wife regards her husband? -What a tempest of emotions would succeed the happy quiet I have always -enjoyed! And can you wish me to change even the uncertain life I now lead -for such a scene? Depend upon it, dear count, we are better as we are. -The feelings we now entertain for each other are pure; do not let us dim -them by guilt.” - -“You love me then?” he whispered, still holding my hands; “you -acknowledge it; say it again;—if we are to be hereafter separated, let me -at least be sure of that,—say so, Genevra.” - -“Why, oh, why do you still tempt me? if you know I like you, you know it -without my telling you: words are easily spoken: they might deceive you.” - -“Not words from your mouth, my Genevra. I distrust the world generally, -but I know in whom to confide; and who could distrust you?” - -“Oh! if you only knew how miserable I feel, you would pity me,” I -passionately exclaimed, comprehending the necessity of our separation, -yet feeling wretched at that thought. “Let us talk of something else; let -us try and remain friends only.” - -“Friends!” said he, vehemently, starting from his knees, dropping my -hands, and rapidly walking the room. “My feelings could never answer to -so cold a title, nor could yours if they are what I wish them to be. No, -dear lady, we can never again be merely _friends_,” and he emphasized the -word scornfully. He walked on for some minutes, then suddenly pausing -before me, looked long at my face. - -“How beautiful, how truthful you are! how misplaced is your present -position!” then, as if animated by a frenzy of feeling, he again caught -my hands, and drawing me to the open window, said:—“Genevra, look there; -look at that beautiful scene! see how the sun gilds the lofty domes; the -tall trees, the gardens, the flowers! see how he warms whatever he looks -upon, and his light might also warm two loving hearts, if my prayer was -heard. Fly, Genevra, fly with me,” and he moved, drawing my hand toward -the door; but I, though penetrated by a profound emotion, remained -immovable, and suppressing all external indications of it, quietly drew -him back to the casement, and pointing to the clear blue sky, now near -twilight, said to him: - -“You spoke to me allegorically: I will answer you the same. As you said -to me at Baie, when we together stood upon the shore, watching the little -schooner struggling for anchorage, which it at last secured, and you -predicted that thus would it be with me; so do I say to you now,—behold -that heavy white cloud, obscuring the light of the sky; see it gradually -moves away, and the light shines clear again: so will destiny alter for -us; wait and hope;—everything is comprised in these words.” - -“No, Genevra, I have no hope now: this is not an occasion on which hope -is permitted me. If this is our last meeting (and your refusal has -signified it), give me one of those fair curls, that when I look upon -it, I may recall the lovely head on which it grew: yes, give me one of -them, and let me paint your beautiful eyes, your lips, your cheeks, your -whole face, your whole figure, on my heart; but memory has been the -artist: who could paint as well as she?” - -A pair of tapestry scissors lay upon the table; he took them up, and -tremblingly severed one of my curls. It was soft and silky, and at least -half a yard long. He smoothed the glossy tress, then laid it in his -bosom, and turned from me as if to go. I saw nothing, felt nothing, but -that he was going away. - -“Stay! stay! you are not going from me thus indifferently; not thus -forever?” - -“Have you not said so? have you not bade me go? am I not obeying you?” - -“Yes, you are obeying me. I meant what I said: but stay yet awhile; I -have something to say. I——,” overpowered by my own sadness, my head sank -upon his shoulder, and with my hands pressed to my eyes, the tears forced -their way through them. Suddenly he encircled me with his arms, and -bowing that proud yet noble head on mine, smoothed the ringlets from my -brow. - -“My beautiful Genevra—you will let me call you mine, will you not?” I -bowed acquiescence;—I could not speak. “Since you refuse my love, decline -my visits, I shall write you: you will not refuse me that pleasure, will -you?” - -“No,” I stammered. - -“To-morrow then, a letter shall explain. Farewell, now,—farewell, -beautiful one.” - -He went toward the door. I stood motionless. As he turned half round -before opening the door, I involuntarily stepped toward him. He extended -his arms,—I rushed into them, and clung convulsively to him, as a -drowning man catches at a straw. - -“My God! how hard it is,” he ejaculated, as he tore himself away, and the -echo of his footsteps died away on my ear. I still grasped at air, as if -seeking him, and it was some moments before I could convince myself that -he was really gone. Then I went to the windows, pushed back the curtains, -admitted air and light, and sought to cool my burning forehead,—to recall -my scattered thoughts,—but neither air nor light brought me relief. -Objects were dim; nothing appeared as it had in the morning. The sound -of voices and carts in the streets below sounded strange and unnatural. -One only thought haunted me, dwelt in my mind, lingered in my ears,—he -was gone—I had sent him away. I knew I had acted honorably, uprightly; -that I had shown myself to be virtuous and high principled; but I was -miserable,—utterly wretched. I recalled his winning ways, his lofty mind, -his handsome person: I imagined my destiny united to his,—imagined myself -his wife:—I could be his on no other terms. Then I revelled in ideal -happiness,—then no invidious fate stood between us, but I stood lawfully -by his side;—then I was happy. - -Thus pre-occupied, agitated and desponding, I sat till dusk had thrown a -veil over the fair city. I did not notice, but dreamed on, and was only -aroused from my meditations by the entrance of Pasiphae with lights. - - * * * * * - -The next morning, more dead than alive, I went to rehearsal. The -performance was tedious—the theatre cold. I hurried through, glad to -escape from the tiresome scene, and returned home, where Pasiphae handed -me a letter. In haste and confusion I opened it. It was from the count:— - - “You have told me I cannot be to you what I wish to be. You - have bade me be your friend, and as I cannot be that with - safety either to you or myself, we must see each other no - more; at least not now, as you say; but to me the prospect - of a future lawful re-union is very dim and remote. But you - have not denied me the honor and pleasure of writing you, and - that shall be a slight link of friendship between us when I am - far away,—for I intend leaving, a few days hence, for Epirus, - having to-day resigned my commission as chamberlain to his - majesty,—and I shall treasure the precious replies you send me - as mementos breathing your own pure spirit. - - “I shall resume my lonely wanderings in the Levant, where two - years ago, I spent many happy hours in silent contemplation. - To those scenes I shall transport your fairy form, and in your - imaginary society, the ruined grandeur of Athens,—the stately - remains of Agrigentum,—the classic shores of Troy,—will acquire - new beauties for me from association. Would that you were - with me,—that your dreamy, philosophic mind, might conjure up - visions of past magnificence, and revel in the recollections of - what it was, contrasted with what it is. - - “But why do I wander into dreams again? Suffice it to say, - that I must go while yet I have the will to do so, and in - bidding _you_ farewell, I feel as if bidding adieu to life. - But most generally in life so it is. No sooner have you found - a sympathetic mind,—one in whose society existence would wing - itself away only too delightfully,—than some fatal accident - tears her away, as if Providence envied human felicity, so - rarely is it found on earth. I know, however, that that angelic - virtue which has so nobly sustained you thus far, will continue - to do so to the end; and that it will, of itself, be a great - reward. And that heaven may shower upon your pathway roses, the - brightest, the most beautiful, is the fervent prayer of your own - - “ALFIERI CALABRELLA.” - -Below his signature, was written in small characters,—“I shall write you -next from Epirus, and expect an answer there.” - -I read it again and again,—I kissed the words and examined the -handwriting,—then I folded it, and carefully laid it away in an album. -Within a week, then, he would be away on his journey to Epirus. Far -away from me: I should only hear from him through the indifferent -communication of letters; and how unhappy I should feel when I actually -saw him depart. But I felt in my own heart that I had acted rightly, and -the consciousness of moral rectitude upheld me. - -That night I played the part of Norma to a crowded house. Again the lips -and eyes of royalty applauded me. Never did I look better: the excitement -of my mind had sent the hot blood to my cheeks, and my long auburn hair, -falling to my waist in spiral ringlets, relieved my face. An unwonted -inspiration came over me that night, and my voice was unusually clear; -the house was in an uproar of delight, but neither elated by my triumph, -nor caring for the admiration I elicited, I was about leaving the -stage, when the silk curtains of the lower stage box were drawn aside, -and the beautiful, but pale and sad face of the count presented itself -to my view. So sudden was the encounter of our eyes, so strange this -unexpressed adieu, that I scarcely had recollection enough to leave the -stage. - -Determined to avoid the crowd which always awaited me in the green-room, -I requested the manager to hand me to my calesso, which he did, and I -drove to my hotel. - -It was one o’clock. Pasiphae sat in the bedroom near an open -window,—Raphael lay on his bed in a sweet slumber. I thought I saw -something glitter on my dressing table: going towards it, I perceived a -small Tripoli chain, with a tiny gold heart attached to it, and a slip of -paper pinned to it, with these words written upon it: - - “Let the child wear this in remembrance of me. - - CALABRELLA.” - -I asked Pasiphae who had brought it. She said an African servant had left -it an half hour before. It was a delicate parting gift to my child, and -a souvenir for me: but no, I was mistaken—so slight a present was not -intended indirectly for me. Three days after a small package was handed -me. I opened it, and beheld an exquisite miniature of the count, set in -brilliants. The beautiful black eyes seemed to smile on me with their -languid fervor; the clear white complexion, the long nose, slightly -aquiline, and waving black hair, were all detailed naturally; the -blending and commingling of expression, which gave an air of haughtiness -and benevolence to his countenance, was all there. - -That was his parting gift: that day he left Naples. - -If I had been unhappy in the struggle between love and duty, how much -more so was I not when left utterly alone in that great city; when I -looked forward and saw nothing, when I looked back on strange scenes, and -at the present which was so unsatisfactory. - -I renewed my engagement, and continued to sing; from my unprotected -position, I was necessarily exposed to covert attacks of the most -dishonorable character; and one such I received from a Baron Reichstadt, -in the shape of an impertinent note, which I answered as it deserved, and -dismissed him. One or two other innuendos I met with, and although I bore -them all with an outward calm of stoicism; yet within I felt the bitter -humiliation of a proud woman, that such indignities should be put upon me. - -The stagnant calm of a monotonous routine, requires little detail; to -rise early, attend to my child, then go to rehearsal as often as a new -opera was to be performed; practise my favorite songs, then walk on -the Toledo, and dine at six, completed my daily existence. I received -a glowing letter from the count, dated Epirus, in which he thrillingly -described the country, dwelt upon its associations, its desolate, ruined -condition now; then delicately bringing the subject back to reality, -spoke of himself, of me. I will not insert it here, nor the many others -he sent me equally beautiful; my story is drawing to a close, my kind -friend, and I am convinced its length must have already tired you. - -He continued his travels in the Levant and through the East, while I went -to Florence, to fulfil an engagement there. The charming society of that -fair town; the fine scenery of the city itself, and the air of repose -so different to the busy activity of Naples, combined to cheer and calm -me. There I remained a month, and when I left, it was with feelings of -regret. I carried away with me (they said) the hearts and imaginations -of all; but if I did so, it was unconsciously, for never had I exerted -myself less. - -Genoa next claimed my attention, and it was three months ere I saw -Naples again. The laurels I won seemed to me to adorn the head of a -corpse, so listlessly did I regard my fame. - -Visions of my husband and the count haunted my dreams, and I always saw -them under strange circumstances, in strange places, when I would seem to -be trying to reach either one or the other, but could not get near them, -some obstacle always interposed,—then in my despair, I would feel as I -felt at parting with the count. From these tumultuous dreams I awoke in -terror, thankful they were mere dreams; and my perceptions being rendered -more acute by these nocturnal visitations, I would renew my anxious -searches for my husband, and send new agents to endeavor to discover him; -but in vain, I heard nothing more of him. - -Six months elapsed in the same quiet way, when one day, as I was walking -up and down my parlor, leading Raphael by the hand, a servant announced -that an old man wished to see me. - -“Show him in,” said I, and he presently returned, ushering in a tall -man, attired in sailor’s clothes. He came towards me, holding his -tarpaulin-hat in his hand, and apparently confused at my presence. - -“Is this the lady?” asked he, bashfully. - -“I am Madame de Serval, do you wish to see me?” - -“Yes, lady, I have a letter for you from Pondicherry.” - -“From Pondicherry,—who can it be from?—I know no one there. Give it me.” - -I extended my hand, and the sailor placed in it a letter, coarsely folded -and sealed. I hastily tore it open, and read the following: - - “A gentleman giving his name as Monsieur de Serval, committed - suicide in my house six days ago, by blowing his brains out - with a pocket pistol. Having by accident seen a Neapolitan - paper, containing a description of a Madame de Serval, a - great singer, I address this letter to the lady in question, - thinking, from the names, that there may be some relationship - between the dead gentleman and the lady. If there is, I beg - she will answer this, and tell me what is to be done with - his effects, which consist of several large chests, heavily - locked with padlocks, and four trunks, together with a toilette - case of rare value, the interior being set with gold, and the - utensils of the same metal, adorned with precious stones. - - “The gentleman was buried in the English burying ground, and a - small sum of money in his purse paid for the interment. - - “JEROME TOBIA. - - “_Pondicherry, January 10th._” - -When I had read this fatal letter, I endeavored to look around for the -man who had brought it, but I could not see him: the room darkened, -and, with a wild shriek, I fell into Pasiphae’s arms, and lost all -recollection. - - * * * * * - -I must carry you onward another year. When I had sufficiently recovered -from the shock of this unexpected news, I sent to Pondicherry, and had -the remains of my unfortunate husband brought to Naples. I thought I -should have gone mad when I saw the body: and with bitter sadness did I -consign it to mother earth. A marble tombstone was placed over him in the -cemetery of the convent of Sacre Cœur. Of his adventures, or the cause -of his going to Pondicherry, I never knew. All I learned was, that he -came there, boarded at the house of the man who had written me, and was -gentlemanly and reserved. They knew nothing of him. He told no one any -thing concerning himself. He had been there some weeks at the period of -his self-destruction; and it was merely from accident that the landlord -had supposed, that perhaps there might be a relationship between two -persons of the same name. Thus, through the merest chance, after six -months of anxiety and sadness, did I once more, and for the last time, -look upon my Rinaldo’s face. - -There is a feeling between husband and wife—that is to say, between -husbands and wives of any sensibility, who have ever loved—there is, -I say, a feeling of affection, which will sooner or later return, -however alienated the parties may have become. As I stood over that -lifeless form, and thought of his erratic career, and wayward, uncertain -character; of his love for me, and subsequent desertion; his entering -into a conspiracy against the government; then carried as prisoner of -state to Naples; his escape and after-wanderings—all rushed through my -mind. Why had he acted thus? Why had he not been honest, upright? Why? Of -whom could I ask that question? The earth falling on the coffin was my -only reply. - -Let me pass over those times. - -It was in the dawn of spring, I occupied a small Gothic cottage about -a mile from Naples. Two domestics and my child—now a lisping, rosy -boy—together with Pasiphae, were its sole tenants. The grounds of -this sylvan abode were beautifully laid out, and the fairest flowers -planted there. There, too, a marble fountain threw high in air its airy -spray—cooling the air and adorning the garden by its beauty. - -Several rustic arbors, formed of the pliable bamboo, and shaped in -Gothic turrets, were placed at intervals along the gravel walks, which, -meeting in one broad attic before the porch ended there; the birds sang -their sweetest songs in the day time; and, at night, the spiritual -warbling of the nightingale was the inspirer of the hour. - -Here, one sunny afternoon, I sat under the shade of a tree, watching -Raphael, and Zoe, his pet dog, running races. The frolicksome glee of the -child, the graceful antics of the dog, as he sometimes ran after his baby -master,—sometimes solicited pursuit in return,—amused and diverted me. As -the child grew older I could trace his father’s lineaments in his young -features: and the thoughts which were recalled by that resemblance only -rendered me sadder than I was. I was reading Petrarch’s sonnets, a volume -of which had been presented me by my husband during the first months of -my marriage: their gloomy descriptions of love and beauty entranced my -soul; and, absorbed, I read on, forgetful even of the playful cries of -Raphael, when I saw Pasiphae coming towards me, her face lighted with -more than usual animation: and with a gleeful voice she told me a man -desired to see me in the salon. - -“Ask him to send me word what he wants, Pasiphae. I do not wish to see -any one this morning. Why did you not deny me yourself? you know I do not -want to talk,” was my reply; for I was indisposed to see visitors, or -answer business engagements. - -“Do come, my lady; do come,” said Pasiphae, urgently, and joyfully; -“indeed you won’t regret it; the person has something particular to say.” - -Thus urged, and wondering what it could be, I rose, leaving my book on -the seat, and taking Raphael by the hand, followed by the dog, went into -the house. The rooms were all on the ground floor; a broad hall ran -through the house, and opening off it were four rooms; two were fitted -up as salons, the other two constituted my bed-room and dining-room. -They were furnished alike with red velvet drapery, Turkey carpets, and -mirrors. Pasiphae regularly each day placed fresh flowers in the Chinese -vases on the marble consoles, and their delightful perfume scented the -rooms with oriental fragrance. - -I entered the room holding Raphael by the hand, and coming from the clear -light of the garden into the crimson light of the salon, I could scarcely -discern objects. - -A tall figure stood with its back towards me, facing the window. As I -stepped forward on the carpet, it turned, and I beheld Count Calabrella. -Animated with a supernatural joy, I sprang toward him. - -“It is you!” I cried; “oh, is it you? You have come! you have come!” - -“Yes, beloved one,” answered he, as he clasped me in his arms. “At last -we are united: now the unstable dreams which have buoyed me up through -this long separation, and my lonely wanderings are realized; now we meet, -not to feel again the same sorrow we mutually experienced at our last -parting.” - -“Oh, let me die now!” I answered, as I laid my head on his breast, “for -now I am happy, and life cannot have many repetitions of such emotions -for me.” - -“Instead of dying, let us picture long years of happiness, and be -determined they should be verified,” replied my Alfieri, laughingly. - - * * * * * - -Naples once again saw me as a bride; not as at the first, blooming -with health and joy, my mind in an ecstatic rhapsody of romance, but a -woman chastened by experience, that best of monitors. Subdued, but not -downcast, was my mien the morning of my bridal: the sobered happiness of -my husband’s face was mirrored in mine, and surely I could not have had a -more beautiful mirror. - -And in that marriage I was supremely happy; my life glided like a fairy -dream away. The elegance of mind and manner which captivated at first, -did not prove, on mature acquaintance, a fictitious dress, worn merely -for ornament. Judgment, tempered by feeling, guided him, and in obeying -such a guide, how could he fail to act rightly? The calm good sense, the -nobility of soul, and sweet disposition of Alfieri, day by day, more -completely gained my love and esteem. - -Before leaving Naples, on a journey we took, soon after our marriage, to -the north of Italy, I chanced to meet in the suburbs of the town—while -walking with my husband—old Acte, the sybil of the rock. She stopped my -way, and looking at me with her piercing eyes, said, “Well, fair lady, we -meet again: I knew we should; and the other, where is she? You need not -tell me: I know already;—she is dead. She lies on the shore, where the -winds howl and the waters beat. Say, lady, say, have not my words proved -true?” demanded she, in her shrill tones. - -“Yes, good woman, you were right,” was my hasty reply, as I and my -husband hurried away, anxious to avoid any farther conversation with the -weird-woman. - -Soon after we took our departure on a tour through the north of Europe. -Those magnificent cities, beautiful scenery, and the different nations -we visited, acquired new interest in my eyes, when viewed in such -society. Then, after we had satiated our eyes and ears with the wonders -of other lands, we came finally to the Eternal City, where I have had the -pleasure of forming your acquaintance; and I number it as one of the most -agreeable episodes of my life: so, also, does my husband. - -My tale is done. You have asked it of me, and knowing your integrity, I -feel no hesitancy in complying with the request. The hours I have passed -in your studio have been among the pleasantest I have spent in Rome. - -Should the count and myself never have the pleasure of seeing you again, -at least the copy of my portrait and this diary will seem to be an -invisible link to the chain of thoughts between us three. - -Adieu, dear Signor Carrara: we shall leave to-morrow, and have completed -this in haste to leave with you. - - GENEVRA CALABRELLA. - -_Rome_, _April_ 6th, —— - - * * * * * - -The latter part of this diary was very old, yellow, and much torn, from -apparently repeated readings: I had some difficulty in decyphering it. -Its perusal had deeply interested me, so I folded it up, and rose upon -my feet. I saw my little time-piece indicated the hour of one, and a -moment after there came a violent knocking at the door, and then Morton’s -stentorian voice was fully audible. - -“Clarence, I say Clarence, are you within? if you are, for God’s sake -answer; there’s some infernal thing in my room which has kept me from -sleeping for the last hour. I don’t know what it is, and I can’t find -out, for my light’s gone out; come here and bring a candle for pity’s -sake.” - -I seized my expiring candle and rushed into his apartment, where stood -in the middle of the floor my friend, apparently in a state of great -bewilderment; the chairs were thrown about in confusion, and clothes were -lying here and there; the curtains of the bed half pulled down. - -“What is it, Morton? what’s the matter?” I cried, bringing the luminary -to bear upon the chaos. - -“What’s the matter? why that’s just what I want to know myself; for the -last hour I have heard nothing but chairs upset, the hangings scratched -at, and my own hair and face most delightfully scratched. When I -stretched out my hands, seeking to discover the cause of the mischief, I -grasped empty air; I could see nothing, all was darkness: and thus have -I been bored; now take your candle and try and find out what it is.” - -I began a tour of the apartment, but saw nothing, except luggage piled -on luggage, dressing cases, brushes, combs, &c., &c.; when going around -the bed, I heard a sardonic laugh, and looking up, saw perched on the -tester, a monkey; the property of a fellow boarder, who, by some means, -had contrived to secrete himself in my friend’s room, and consequently -annoy him by his tricks. Taking the mischievous animal by his fore legs I -put him out the room, much to Morton’s relief, who exclaimed, - -“Is that the thing? well, it has been troubling me enough, the plague; I -thought satan himself was here. Thank you, Clarence, my dear fellow; what -time is it?” - -I told him, then went to bed. - -The next day I waited on Signor Ferra, the attorney; he lived in a dark, -dirty street, in an old tumble-down house. Upon opening Carrara’s will, -I found, to my utter amazement, that with the exception of the house in -which he lived, and the gallery of paintings, he had made me heir to -his considerable property in Rome and the environs, together with the -beautiful portrait of Genevra. My kindness to the solitary old artist, -had not been ill repaid; so impossible it is for us in this strange -existence, to foresee the result of even the slightest action; and, which -only more fully demonstrated to me the propriety of always being polite. - -A few days after, Morton and myself left Rome for Athens. - - -THE END. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GENEVRA; OR, THE HISTORY OF A -PORTRAIT, *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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