ciently, their lids should have the appearance of being completely closed. Nannette drew near. “Are you asleep, Mr. Levis?” she whispered. I lay perfectly still. She set down the tea-cup upon a stand, and softly approached my bed's side. It was the last hour of the day. The red light of the setting sun shone through the half closed shutters of the windows upon her soft cheek, adding a deeper hue to the flush that already tinged it. She leaned over me, and seemed to listen to my breathing. “He sleeps,” I heard her murmur, -“I will not disturb him.” One of my hands lay open over the edge of the bed. Nannette approached her own to it timidly, and touched the palm with her velvet fingers. The touch was light as an infant's ; but I could feel the hot arteries beating as if they would burst the delicate skin, and my own began to throb with a force that threatened to betray me. She removed her hand with a gentle sigh, and bent her face near to mine. Her eyes were glowing with a feeling whose expression I durst not trust myself to look upon, and I was forced to close mine own. Presently I felt her warm breath upon my cheek; but the next instant it was gone —though I could hear, distinctly, the loud beating of her heart. I looked again. Nannette was gazing timidly around her, as if she dreaded some person might be watching her actions.—Again the beautiful girl bent over me ; and again I closed my eyes. A second time I felt her breath upon my cheek; and, the next moment, her burning lips were lightly touched to mine, then instantly withdrawn. She was in a delirium. I too was in a delirium:—my heart beat so audibly, she must have heard it, had she not been, for the moment, in a manner insensi. ble.—I ventured to open my eyes once more. It was just in time to see Nannette snatch with eagerness the little jet crucifix which always hung from her neck, and kiss it rapturously. “Holy Virgin'” I heard the poor girl exclaim, “save me from these sinful thoughts” Then, Wol. II. 10 rushing to the window, she threw herself upon a chair. and sobbed. I waited till the violence of my own emotions was somewhat abated; and then I said, softly, " Is that you, Nannette?" "Yes, monsieur," she answered, stifling her sobs. "Come near me, Nannette." And my beautiful nursi, was in a moment by my side. "Are you not well?" I asked, with tenderness, while 1 took her trembling hand. It was barbarous in me thus to probe her feelings; but I was a man—a young man too—, and I could not resist the temptation to know how well I was beloved by such a woman. "Do not ask me," she murmured,—" I am—I am verj well—indeed I am,"—and, turning aside her head, burst into tears. "Nay, dear Nannette," I said, sinking my voice to its softest tone, "you are unhappy—your eyes are red with weeping. Tell me—what is it, dear Nannette?" This was too much for the already overcharged heart of the girl. All her feelings rushed at once to her lips, and nature completely triumphed. "Too cruel!" she sobbed—drawing from me the haml I still was holding—" Do not call me by that name again! —and in that voice too!—I cannot bear it—indeed I cannot !—it will kill me !"—and the unhappy maiden rushei) from the room, burying her face in her hands. And was I contented, now that I had torn the secret from hef bleeding heart? Ask at your own breast, my Reader. That night there was a fever in my brain. The image? of Mary and Nannette alternately swam before me, in visions—not of happiness—but of almost damning torture,—and when I woke the next morning, I resolved to save, if possible, both myself and the daughter of my kiwi host from the gulf over which her passion had placed us both, by the only means still left in my power—by fully explaining to her the impossibility of my returning her affection, and then departing from her father's house for ever. The step was a bold one; but beneath was yawning the abyss—and I took it. — ask the stars, Which have imposed love on us, like a fate, Marriage J3-la-Mode. Bur the execution did not immediately follow the resolve; for, in all that day, Nannette appeared not,—nor yet upon the next. I became alarmed. Could she be sick? The violent excitement her feelings had undergone *as very likely to produce such a result upon a frame so delicate as hers. But then, were that the case, her parents would inform me, I thought.—Her absence was more plausibly accounted for, by attributing it to a shame for the exposure into which she had been betrayed, or to a prudent intention of avoiding a danger she had not •strength to overcome. I determined, therefore, to wait another day, and then, if Nannette came not to me, to go to her; for it was now the third week of my confinement, and the rapidly convalescent state of my wound permitted roe to move about with sufficient ease. The third day came. The morning—the afternoon massed; yet no Nannette appeared.—It was the beautiful caught her trembling wings, and, with a struggle, broke from the fascination that bound me. "Nannette!" I exclaimed, in a whisper that would never have been heard but in the deep silence that suirounded us. The voice was not monitory, but the appeal was,—and Nannette, no more the child of Nature, in an instant withdrew her hand and sprang from her seat. "God of Heaven! have mercy on me !"—The next moment she added, vainly struggling to stifle her emotion, "But you must not mind me, Mr. Levis,—I am a wild. silly girl." Just then, to the relief of both parties, the father entered the room. "My dear son!" cried the grateful old man, with mingled surprise and delight,—•'' You are at last recovered! How happy it will make us all! But stay, where arc you going, Nannette? What means the foolish girl?—*• Come hither, my daughter."—Nannette approached, and laid her head upon the old man's bosom, and wept. Her fatal passion seemed to have destroyed all feelings of womanly pride.—" Poor child! she is most sadly changed within a few days, and we know not what to make of it nay, Nannette! you must not be offended ;, consider— Mr. Levis is one of us now . During the day, monsieur, she preserves a gloomy silence, interrupted only by sighs: or, if she speaks, in answer to her mother or myself, the effort is succeeded by a burst of tears; and then—she takes no nourishment, monsieur: and at night she sleeps not; or, if her eyelids close for a moment, she moans like a sick infant, or appears to suffer with horrid visions, from which she will start to pray in agony for relief. No words, however, escape to betray the cause of this state of mind; nor can all our entreaties, nor the affliction she sees she is heaping on us, induce her to intrust the secret to our confidence. Hush, my daughter! I do not say ii to reproach you; for 1 have ever found you as pious and affectionate as the heart of a parent could wish. I had told you this before, monsieur; but 1 feared it would distress you." Whether Nannette was willing that I should learn, thus at second hand, the extent of her sufferings on my account, or fearful, that by appearing too anxious to conceal them she should give rise to just suspicions in her father's breast, I cannot say; but sho never once offered to interrupt the tale, except where her parent seemed, for a moment, to insinuate a want of filial piety on her part. "And look now, my son," continued the old man:— •'here, in this close room, with every window shut down, has the silly girl been sitting for hours,—though it is now the middle of May, and unusually warm for the season! I cannot persuade her to take the least exercise, poor thing." "The evening is beautiful," I said, throwing up one of the windows, and looking forth,—" perhaps I may have influence enough with Miss Nannette to persuade her to enjoy it with me ?"—for the distressing picture my venerable friend had drawn had brought my resolve anew before me, and I determined to execute it without delay. "O, yes! Nannette will go with you, monsieur,—she must; she cannot refuse you. Besides, the air will be good for both of you, my children; you both need it." The appeal was not idle. With any one else Nannette would probably have declined going; but she knew, if she refused me, she would seriously offend her father's teelings.—Without a word she took my arm, and I led her trembling to the long piazza at the back of the cottage. The hour was the most favourable I could have for such an explanation as I was about to make—for the twilight was fast sinking into night, and in the obscurity I should be saved from the torture, which the exposure of Nannette's feelings would as certainly inflict upon me, the unwilling witness of it, as upon the unfortunate girl herself; yet we had walked many minutes, in silence, |