The entrance of a servant, who came to extinguish the lights, roused Imogen from her train of reverie. She arose, and retired to her apartment; but not to rest for never had the Novice of St. Dominick, in her narrow cell and on her straw mattress, passed so sleepless a night as did the countess of St. Dorval on her couch of down, surrounded by every lure to sweeten and invite repose.

CHAP. XXXIII.

Nous errons dans des épaisses ombres,
Et souvent nos lumieres sombres

Ne servent qu'à nous éblouir.

J. B. ROUSSEAU.

"Slander beside her like a magpie chatters
"With envy (spitting cat,) dread foe to peace."

THE next morning Imogen arose, without one pleasureable expectation smiling at her heart: weary of the world, but more weary of herself; lost to the esteem of him by whom she was beloved; desert

ed by him to whom, though almost unconscious of her tender weakness, she still clung; denied those enjoyments after which her soul panted; borne away by those pursuits from which she derived no pleasure; languid and dispirited, she sat down to her solitary breakfast, but arose without touching any thing; and, placing herself her at her escruitore, began a billet to the marquis de Sancy, which she meant to accompany with the purse presented to her by the chevalier. But her thoughts were wandering, and, while one hand supported her drooping head, the other held a pen suspended over the paper. From this intrusive train of reverie Imogen was awakened by an uncommon noise; while, amidst the loud tones of a man's voice, the shrill entreaties of a female's were discérnible. The study in which she sat opened into the hall from whence this noise proceeded: Imogen rang her bell, and a servant appeared; on enquiring into the disturbance, she was informed that it

was a person whom the steward had turned out of his room for being importunate, and who now refused to depart without seeing the countess herself.

"And why was the person refused ?" demanded Imogen ; "when had you or"ders to deny me to any one?"

"So please you, my lady," returned the laquais, "it is not a petitioner, else I "should not have refused-but a person to "whom some money is due. Your orders "are to refer such people to the steward."

"Admit the person, however," said Imogen, with a faint blush glowing on her cheek.

The man opened the door, and ushered in a female of wan and wretched appearance, with a little boy in either hand, with an air of meekness and timidity, which appeared to have succeeded to a temporary flash of spirit: she curtsied low, while Imogen, advancing, took one of the children by the hand, and kindly enquired into the nature of the stranger's busi

ness with her, while she presented her a chair, and sat down beside her. The woman seemed touched by this goodness even to tears, and after a momentary struggle with her feelings said,

Lady, this is more than I deserve: but "necessity-the suffering of those we love "a helpless family-will urge one to "act in a manner they afterwards blush for. "I knew too if I could once, only once see you, lady, the debt would be discharged, "and my poor husband liberated."

"And am I your husband's debtor ?" demanded Imogen.

"My husband is the person who furnish"ed the silk hangings for your house,

lady; when he received your orders, he "was just recovering from some heavy

losses in trade; the silk, with the gold " and silver embroidery, he got on credit. "He often called on your steward, but

was always denied ; at last he was arrest"ed for the money himself. For six weeks "he has lingered in prison under a slow

"fever; while my children call for bread, "I have not to give them; your steward "has put me off from day to day, and this "morning added insolence to denial."

The woman wept-but wept not alone. Imogen's heart was full, and her eyes overflowed: she snatched the children in her arms, placed them at the breakfast table, helped them abundantly to every thing it contained; then, running to the escruitore, took the purse intended for de Sancy, and enquired from the woman how much she was indebted to her. The sum specified was about three parts of what the purse contained; Imogen counted it -out to the woman, then presented a piece of gold to each of the children. The woman looked at the money, then at Imogen ; but did not, could not, speak. Imogen, kindly laying her hand on her's, said,

"Do not be surprised at a common act of justice the money so long due to you : "I have now paid; but I must for ever be

your debtor for the sufferings I have un"" consciously caused you.”