Her

Antonio pressed her to his heart, and found with delight that she kept her word. serenity returned, and in a few weeks no traces of her late dejection were visible in her countenance; but her health declined so rapidly that her anxious husband insisted on her trying change of scene.

Accordingly they planned a

little tour of the surrounding counties, and Geraldine left her child under the care of the

curate's wife, a motherly, excellent woman.

The curate of

intellect and fervent piety;

was a man of high

his society had been

of incalculable benefit to Geraldine, and his sermons from the pulpit had strengthened and gladdened her heart. He had known affliction, and many dear friends and relatives had been taken from him by death; but his affections were not of this world, he knew that there is no union of hearts here below which is lasting, and he pitied, from his soul, those unhappy beings who have no aim beyond this life. He looked to the period when time should be at an end, and eternity open; when death's iron

reign should have come to a close, when happy spirits, blessed in a re-union with those they had mourned should tune their bright harps to joy and praise; when no dim eyes or fading forms should thrill us with anguish, and when we should gaze on the loved in the fulness of their beauty, and murmur in holy rapture those blissful words, "for ever!"

Yet this excellent man, though absorbed and walking continually in religion, was playful and cheerful in his family circle, and with those he loved. No austerity sat on his brow, but in his gentleness and charity he strove to imitate his meek and pitiful Saviour. He was truly a man without guile, "a father to the fatherless, and as a husband to the widow," and verily he was rewarded even in this world, by a peace and joy beyond what worldly men can comprehend.

He felt deeply interested in Geraldine's welfare, and saw but too plainly that the showers of the next spring would fall on her grave; he parted from her with emotion. "Farewell, my dear friend," he said, "farewell, in this

changing scene our meetings have scarce gladdened our hearts - the bright glow of pleasure has scarce faded from our cheeks, the warm kiss of greeting is still fresh on our lips, when lo! the sad hour of parting is at hand, and the pale cheek, the quivering lip and firmly grasped hands, betoken the anguish of such severing. Yet, dear friend, though parted in body we are one in spirit. The sweet and powerful tie of Christian friendship, though stretched, cannot be broken; and the same hope, the ecstatic hope of immortality is the "life-breath" of both our hearts; the same Saviour smiles graciously and approvingly on us, and cheers and supports our spirits; and when one of us shall be summoned to the shores of light and bliss, the other will not grieve, but look forward to the hour of meeting to part no more."

Antonio and Geraldine wandered during several weeks through the beautiful scenery of North and South Wales, and the fond husband saw with delight the renovation of Geraldine's health and spirits.

But this temporary excitement soon passed away, and she became so weak that they were obliged to take up their abode in the romantion the banks

cally situated inn near

of the

Antonio watched his wife's

sickly smiles and forced spirits with a bursting heart; often was he compelled to fly from the room, and wander to some retired spot, where he might, unobserved, give a vent to his agonized feelings.

There was a widow residing for a few weeks in the same inn with the Cellinis, and she soon formed an acquaintance with Geraldine, who found her a most interesting and agreeable companion. She had an only child, a son about twenty years of age, and heir to a large property. He was a young man of impetuous but generous feelings, and his admiration of Antonio was enthusiastic, they soon became constant companions, and in all drives or walks, the widow (Mrs. Carleton) and her son accompanied Antonio and his wife. But the weather, which had been unvaryingly fine since the day on

which the Cellinis commenced their excursion, suddenly changed, and heavy and incessant rains, accompanied by violent hurricanes of wind, confined the travellers entirely to the inn.

At length a squall of wind, such as had not been known for twenty years, came like a destroying angel carrying everything before it. Trees of prodigious growth were uprooted and lay in fallen grandeur on the earth; branches whirled in the air, and even men were compelled to cling to inanimate objects for support; houses were unroofed or blown down with a tremendous crash, and the terrified Geraldine expected every moment to be buried beneath the ruins of the inn, as it shivered and creaked in the blast. In a few hours the hurricane subsided, and an afternoon of surpassing brightness and mildness succeeded it. The travellers ventured out in the warm sunshine, and drove for some miles along the beautiful banks of the river. The whole country was strewed with the wrecks of the late fearful storm, and many a poor family