then this consciousness hurt her most of all. His evident preoccupation alarmed her sorely, and the fearful question, "Have I been nursing a delusive hope?" forcibly occurred to her heart.

On the very morning of the day we have been describing, she was sitting alone in the family parlour, giving the finishing strokes to a sketch of her cousin which she had completed in secret, when he entered the room, almost before she had time to conceal the drawing. His countenance was radiant with joy, and the distrait manner which had so annoyed her of late, had quite vanished. Maria thought she had never seen him look so handsome; and as he drew a chair close to her little worktable, and deposited thereon a nosegay of the season's latest flowers, there was a something in his eyes, his whole demeanour, which made Maria's heart bound.

Her agitation became almost ungovernable when he took both her hands in his, and, pressing them tenderly, said, in a tremulous voice,

"I think I am not mistaken, dearest Maria, in believing that you love me truly;" he paused for a moment with his eyes fixed on her changing countenance, but he noted not her extraordinary excitement, his own heart was too full; he continued, “To you, Maria, I need not expatiate on her beauty and sweetness; but I know you will sympathize in my happiness, when I tell you that something has occurred this morning, which leads me to hope that my love may be accepted by her."

Most fortunately for the wretched Maria, Enrico was so thoroughly engrossed by his own. delightful sensations, that her almost fainting state was unnoticed by him, and, with a desperate effort, she repressed her agony, and with perfect outward composure listened to the announcement of his intention to speak soon to Teresa on the subject of his attachment.

With surprising fortitude she played her part till he left her, -and then came the storm -- the sweeping, devastating storm, and the terrible uprooting of a life's hopes, and the severing

of many a golden chord attaching her soul to its prison-house.

Carlo had had a long interview with his nephew on the subject of Teresa, and though he had fondly hoped that Enrico might have become his son-in-law, yet he saw at once the inutility of opposing his attachment, and therefore gave a reluctant consent.

Some time after this interview he proceeded to his daughter's room, where she had taken refuge when Enrico left her. The father's heart was rent; he had latterly suspected his daughter's feelings towards her cousin, and he knew too well the depth of her character to hope that her love could be easily eradicated.

He opened the door softly, and saw his poor child kneeling, with her back turned to him, and her prayer-book spread open before her. She was seeking the only true balm for broken hearts; he attempted to withdraw noiselessly, but she heard a sound, and turned her head. On perceiving her beloved father she rose hastily and threw herself into his fostering

arms, and thus they remained for many minutes, she, sobbing unrestrainedly on his shoulder, and he, raising his heart to Heaven to call down aid and comfort for his stricken child; and when he could speak, how sacred, how beautiful were the words of his parental love! Gradually, as their soft dew fell on her blighted heart, she ceased weeping, and raised her heavy eyes to his face with an expression almost of happiness. Possessed of such a father, could she grieve hopelessly? Oh, no! she might yet find interest whilst he remained with her on earth-and she aroused her energies and resolved to stifle every appearance of her grief.

Enrico's look and movements in the porch had been observed by Maria, and immediately she had turned away and affected to be absorbed in her book; she had not seen Teresa's repulse, nor could she have imagined that any one would reject Enrico's love.

Enrico had come to a determination, during the night, of ending his suspense, and seeking the earliest opportunity on the following morn

ing, he told Teresa of his affection and his hopes.

Teresa, in return, confided to him her real situation, thus silencing for ever his pleadings. He received the information in silent emotion, and from that moment guarded his every look and action. Teresa, having thus broken the ice, told her history to the rest of the family, and met with sincere sympathy and warm offers of

service.

The generous Maria grieved far more for Enrico's disappointment than for her own, and from his firmness in repressing all evidence of his sufferings, she took a beneficial lesson for her own line of conduct.

VOL. III.