for our reception in a castle belonging to the Marquis d'Este. This castle, which was situated on an eminence near the town, afforded accommodation of the best description, with the finests prospects over the distant country and shady walks in the immediate neighbourhood. It was necessary, however, to go every day to the town for the sake of the baths, and for that purpose a house had been taken for the Countess, where she spent the mornings whenever she bathed. Her mysterious sleep became very brief and quiet after the first few baths. She rarely spoke, never answered a question, and seemed to enjoy quite a natural sleep. When she spoke after the seventh bath, it was only to order that she should not continue in that house after the tenth bath; and after this she fell once more into her peculiar trance, saying these words, "Emmanuel, I see you no more." These were the last words she ever uttered in a clairvoyant state. She had then for several days a deep unnatural sleep, during which, however, she could not utter a word. At length the day for her thirteenth bath arrived. Up to this time everything had been accomplished exactly as she had predicted during her hours of clairvoyance; it only remained to perform the last duty. The Prince and the Count came to me early in the morning to remind me of my promise to resign the amulet, which I was compelled to show them. They did not leave me alone for a single moment during the whole morning, fearing lest I might change my mind regarding the sacrifice I was to make, or might lose the treasure accidentally. As soon as the news came that the Countess was in the bath, the minutes were anxiously counted, and after a rest of some hours we all accompanied her to the Castle. She was in unusually high spirits. Having been told that she was to receive the gift from me in seven hours' time, and thenceforth always to wear it, she rejoiced at the idea of the expected present like a child, and bantered me about my faithlessness to my chosen one in presenting her gift to another.

The hour of two sounded; that was the seventh from the time of her last bath. We were all together in a garden house, the Count, the Prince, and one of the Countess's female attendants being present. "Now," cried the Count, "let us have no more delay. moment is arrived for the last of my daughter's sufferings and the first of my happiness."

The

I drew the valued treasure from my bosom, where I had so long worn it, and unfastened the gold chain from my neck; with a feeling of painful emotion, I impressed one kiss on the glass, and then gave it to the Countess. Clementina took it, and when her eyes fell on the dried rose a deep blush suddenly overspread her countenance. She

gently bowed her head as though to thank me, but confusion and astonishment were visible on her features, which she vainly endeavoured to conceal. She stammered out a few words, and then all at once withdrew with her attendant. The Count and the Prince were full of gratitude to me; they had made preparations for a little fête in the Castle that evening, and several noble families from Este and Rovigo had been invited.

Meanwhile we waited long, but in vain, for Clementina's reappearance. It was not until an hour afterwards we heard that immediately on her putting the locket around her neck she had felt herself overcome with sleep, in which state she then was. Two, three, four hours elapsed the expected guests were all assembled-but Clementina did not awake. Her father himself went to her bedside, but he found her in a deep and tranquil slumber, and was afraid to disturb her. The party passed over without Clementina being present; and she was still asleep when the party broke up after midnight. On the following morning she still continued in the same profound sleep-no noise disturbed her. The Count's anxiety was great, and mine not less. Physicians were called in, who, however, assured us that her sleep was a healthy and refreshing one; and the colour of her cheeks, as well as her pulse, gave indication of the most perfect health. Noon came, and also evening, without Clementina awaking. Repeated assurances from the doctors that she was evidently quite well were necessary to set our minds at rest. Night came and passed. The next morning the whole Castle resounded with acclamations when Clementina's female attendants announced the joyful circumstance of her being awake and well. Every one hastened to congratulate her on her perfect recovery. Why may I not confess it? Amid the universal joy I only was sad. Ah! more than sad, in my solitary room. The engagement which I had originally made with the Count was now fulfilled. I could depart whenever I chose. I had often expressed my desire and resolution to do so; and everybody expected nothing less than that I should keep my word. But, to be permitted to breathe the same air as Clementina appeared to me the most enviable lot in the world; and to be compelled to live apart from her was indeed like a sentence of death. But when I thought of her approaching marriage with the Prince, and of the fickleness of her weak-minded father-when I thought of my own honour, of my feverish desire to live free and independent-then manly Pride made her voice heard, and I was as determined as ever to leave the place as soon as I could ⚫ possibly do so. I made a vow that I would flee. I saw the hopeless

misery of my lot; but I preferred bidding a long farewell to happiness to becoming despicable in my own eyes.

I found Clementina in the garden belonging to the Castle; and I felt a slight thrill as I approached to offer my congratulations. She was standing in a thoughtful attitude by a flower-bed, without any attendant, and looking more blooming than I had ever seen her, as though glowing with renovated life. She was not aware of my presence until I addressed her. "How you frightened me!" said she, with a sweet smile, while her cheeks were suffused with a deep blush.

"I wished, Countess, to express my congratulations"— I could say no more. That look of hers, which seemed to pierce my inmost soul, I could not bear; with difficulty I stammered out some excuse for having disturbed her. She was silent, but her eyes were fixed upon me. After a long pause, she at length said, "You speak of joy, my friend, but are you glad?" "Most assuredly, since I see you restored to perfect health. And now in a few days I shall leave this place; and, if it is possible, in other lands shall henceforth live for myself, as I have no longer any one to live for. My vow is fulfilled." "And is it, then, your serious intention, dear friend, to leave us? How can you say you have no one to live for? Have you not bound us by every tie of gratitude? What obliges you to part from us?" I placed my hand on my heart, and fixed my eyes on the ground, but I could not utter a word. "You will stay with us, Henri, will you not?" she added. "I cannot." "But if I ask you, Henri?"

"In mercy, Countess, do not ask me, do not command that-I must indeed leave." "You cannot stay with us? --and yet no other object, no other duty, calls you away?” “A duty to myself compels me." "Go, then, Henri. mistaken in you. I thought you valued us more."

you only knew what feelings your words excite, you spare me." Then I must say no more, Henri. great injustice."

have been "Countess, if would in pity But you do me

I ventured to

I saw tears in

She turned from me as she spoke these words. follow her, and to beg her not to be angry with me. her eyes, and was overcome with fright. I clasped my hands, and implored her not to be angry. "If it be your will," I said, "I will obey. Do you insist on it that I should remain? My peace of mind, my own happiness, my life, I willingly sacrifice, if you command it." "No, Henri, I will not force you to anything, since you do not wish to remain." "Oh, Countess!" I exclaimed, "do not drive me to despair." "And when, Henri, do you wish to go?" "To

morrow-no, to-day." "No, no, Henri," said she in a low voice, drawing closer to me, "I shall not value my recovered health, your gift, if you—Oh, Henri, you will remain at least a few days?" She said this in such a gentle, imploring tone, and looked so reproachfully at me through her tears, that I could no longer control myself. "I will remain," I said. "But willingly?" "With rapture!" "Leave me for a moment, Henri, but do not quit the garden. I only wish to compose myself a little." Thus saying she left me, and I lost sight of her among the orange trees.

For a long time I remained standing on the same spot, like a man in a dream. Never before had Clementina used such language to me, for it was not the language of mere politeness. Every nerve within me quivered at the notion that I possessed some interest in her heart. Those repeated requests for me to remain-those tears, and, more than all, that which cannot be described, the nameless something, the indefinable language of look, emotion, and voice-a language without words, which yet expressed more than words can do-I could not understand it, and yet I did understand it: I doubted, and at the same time felt perfect conviction.

After some little time Clementina again joined me, looking cheerful and gay, accompanied by one of her attendants. Her delicate form robed in white, and surrounded with a blaze of sunshine, seemed that of an ideal being, one of Raphael's artist dreams. In her hand was a nosegay of roses and violets. "I have been gathering a few flowers for you, dear Henri," said she to me; "do not scorn them. I give them to you with very different feelings from those with which once during my illness I gave you a rose. I ought not to remind you now of my former caprices. I remember them myself as in duty bound, in order that I may now make you some amends. And oh! how much have I to make amends for! Give me your arm; and, Cecilia, you give me another."

We walked about for some time in lively conversation; at length her father joined us, and soon after the Prince. Never had Clementina been more amiable than on this the first day of her restored health. She spoke to her father with respectful tenderness; to the Prince with refined courtesy; and to me with grateful attention. Not that she thanked me in words, but it was the manner in which she addressed me. An indescribable cordiality was apparent in her words, and in the tone of her voice, when she turned to me, and in her look and manner a something of sisterly regard, good nature, and anxiety to please me; and her manner was the same when her father and the Prince were present. She seemed to regard it as

a matter of course, as if things could not and ought not to be otherwise.

Several delightful days of pleasure and festivity followed. Clementina's conduct towards myself underwent no change. I myself, restrained on the one hand by the cold laws of respect, and urged on the other by my deep attachment for her, found at length, in her society, a peace of mind to which I had long been a stranger. Her confiding manner made me feel more like a brother. She did not attempt to conceal the pure friendship which she was pleased to entertain towards me, nor did I seek to hide my own feelings. Although I ventured not to betray all I felt--and yet, oh who could withstand such loveliness, so many virtues ?—it was not long before my secret escaped.

It was the custom for the visitors at Battaglia to assemble together when the evenings were fine in front of a large coffee-house, and to take refreshments in the open air. Chairs were placed in a sort of semi-circle in the open street, where they used to sit, while on all sides were heard the tones of the guitar accompanied by the voice, according to the usual custom in Italy. The large building also resounded with music, and the windows and doors were illuminated. One evening, when the Prince had left earlier than usual, the Countess took it into her head to join the party. I had already retired to my own room, and was sitting in a dreamy reverie over my future fate, holding the nosegay which she had given me in both hands the light was dimly burning, and the door of my room half open, so that I was seen by Clementina and Cecilia as they passed by. They both looked at me for some time, and then came softly in; but I was not aware of their presence till they stood close by my side, and told me I must go with them into the town, and then they amused themselves with laughing at my astonished and perplexed look. Clementina recognised the nosegay, took it up from the table where I had laid it, and, all withered as it was, put it into her bosom. We went down to the town, and joined the rest of the company.

It so happened that Cecilia entered into conversation with some of her acquaintances, and got separated from us; but neither Clementina nor I was angry with her. We walked arm-in-arm up and down the gay crowd, till she was tired, and then we sat down on a small bench under an elm tree which stood a little apart. The moon shining through the branches fell on Clementina's lovely face and on the withered flowers in her bosom, and I pointed to the nosegay, and said, "Will you again rob me of what you had