and fair throat were deluged by the rain which beat in at the window. Scarcely knowing what she did, she at last ran up stairs to the nursery, and desired that the child's cradle might be placed in her own room, to which she then went.

When her orders had been obeyed, she locked the door, and kneeling beside the innocent infant she contemplated its calm sleep for some time in silence; her own wild, disordered appearance and glittering eyes offering a powerful contrast to its gentle beauty.

At length she arose from her knees, and going to the door, placed her finger on her lips and listened attentively; then hearing no sound, she approached a table, and deliberately unlocking one of its drawers she drew forth a gold chain, to which was suspended a small miniature of her father, and a purse containing a large sum of money, which had belonged to him; then throwing a cloak over her person, she again approached her child, and lifting it gently from its cradle she laid it on her bosom, enveloping it in the folds of the cloak.

She then opened the door cautiously, and returned to the drawing-room. By this time she was quite delirious and tortured by an intolerable pain in her head. She passed through a glass door into the garden, and the violence of the wind nearly drove her back into the house. But resolutely she pursued her course, and fled rapidly from the grounds and through the country in the direction of Lady Sedley's house; but suddenly changing her course, she ran, as if pursued, across the country. Her cloak had fallen, unperceived, from her shoulders, and the wind soon carried it into the lake. The fever, which increased every moment, urged her on, regardless of fatigue; and she travelled during almost the whole night, sometimes leaning against a tree for rest, and careless of the fierce lightning, the crashing fall of trees, and the pealing thunder.

Maternal love seldom deserts the breast, even in madness, and Teresa had covered her infant with her dress, which was of a thick material.

But even the excitement of delirium was at

length exhausted; Teresa's limbs trembled under her, her sight failed, and her brain swam. By a convulsive effort she still strained her infant to her bosom, and fell backwards on the ground, in a deep swoon.

By degrees the storm spent its fury, the black clouds rolled away to some far region, the fierce winds returned to their rest, and the deluged earth shone brightly in the rising beams of the

sun.

The spot where Teresa fell was on the skirts of a large wood, and between that wood and the opposite range of mountains, was a small and fertile flat, which was laid out in meadows and vineyards, and bore the aspect of smiling plenty. A curious old farm-house stood in the centre of these meadows, surrounded by extensive offices. The farm-house, though old, was in perfect repair, and almost covered with creepers and fruit-trees.

Everything was profoundly still after the storm, and the only living thing to be seen in the vast solitude was a huge watch-dog, which

had planted itself before the door of the house, and who on seeing the sun rise had composed himself to rest, having, doubtless, been disturbed by the storm.

As the sun rose more fully in the heavens, and illumined the old farm-house, still glittering and dripping from the late heavy rain, signs of life began to evince themselves in the interior. Figures were seen passing the windows, the door was unbarred, and several men, in labouring dresses, issued from it, and went in search of their different avocations. Next appeared two females, who entered a spacious out-house, and were soon busily employed in milking the cows. The dog followed them, wagging his tail and stretching his shaggy limbs; the poultry began to make sundry noises, and the birds, shaking their wet plumage, sang a welcome to the new day.

At length a young man issued from the door of the house, and stood, for a few seconds, noting the injury done by the storm. He was about the middling height, and of an athletic

make. A quantity of light-brown hair curled under his cap, and his laughing, blue eyes spoke of a careless and joyous heart.

A shade of concern passed over his countenance as he advanced into the garden, and perceived the great devastation wrought by the storm amongst the flowers and shrubs. Many of them were uprooted and blown far away, and almost all the flowers were broken from their stems, and scattered in every direction. The young man collected some of the choicest, and shaking the wet from their delicate heads, he formed a little nosegay, which he placed outside one of the windows, and then proceeded on his course. He passed from the garden and was skirting the wood, when he fancied he heard a low moan; he stopped and listening attentivelyheard the feeble wailing of an infant; he turned in the direction from which the sound came, and going along a foot-path which led through the wood, he soon arrived at the spot where Teresa still lay insensible. The child had crept from her relaxed embrace to some little