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The embarrassment, which Beatrice naturally experienced immediately after the annunciation of the object of their visit by her father, and before she had entirely recovered from the surprise it had occasioned, was soon banished by their graceful ease and selfpossession.

The lady was, as her father had described her, young and lovely. Eighteen summers had hardly shed their roses in her path; yet was there a pensive expression in her face that pictured thought beyond her years, though her dark eye beamed with sensibility and goodness. Her hair was simply parted on the thoughtful brow, and her attire, though in the purest taste, partook of the same simplicity. Her stature, though rather above the middle height, was contrasted with that of her brother, whose tall form bespoke command. An expression of calm dignity marked the quiet glance of his clear blue eye, a profusion of light brown hair shaded his fair forehead, and a slight moustache contrasted equally well with his fresh complexion. The regularity of his features corresponded well with his fine form, and both were enhanced by the elegance of his address, which united a becoming modesty with manly self-possession.

"You will pardon, I trust, the liberty we have taken," he said, as he advanced toward Beatrice with an air of respectful courtesy, "in availing ourselves of the permission of the Comte de Visconti to look at this beautiful specimen of his talent in the art of sculpture. My sister's passion for it is so well understood by her friends, that she enjoys privileges which would be denied to others."

"And yet another privilege she may hope to claim," added the lady with a winning smile, that chased away the habitually pensive expression of her face like a beam of sunshine in an April morning; "the privilege of forming an acquaintance with the lovely original."

As she spoke these words, with a captivating grace, she touched the blushing cheek of Beatrice with her lips.

"The resemblance between these miracles of nature and art is lessened by the roses I have unintentionally called forth," she continued, "but it does not render the original less charming. If my passion had been for the art of painting, instead of sculpture, I could not have used a more ingenious device to perfect a model I should have been too happy to possess."

Beatrice blushed yet more deeply; but how could she be offended at words of such courtly phrase, uttered by lips so fair, and in cadence so gentle ?

Each word of her elegant visitors added to the charm of their conversation, and at the end of an hour, which had glided imperceptibly away, she found herself drawn towards them by a sympathy, which hearts and minds of youthful purity and refinement alone can fully appreciate.

"I am half tempted to part with my incognita," said the lady looking at the count, as she rose to depart. "It is hardly fair to pronounce your name as I do, sweet Beatrice, without revealing my own But you will pardon this mystery, as it meets with the approval of your father, and I hope you will sometimes think of me simply as- -Marie."

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AN acquaintance so auspiciously begun was as happily continued. The visits of the young incognita were several times repeated, and each interview enhanced the respect and admiration Beatrice entertained for her.

The superior knowledge attained by the Comte de Visconti in her favorite art, and the delight she evidently took in his conversation and instructions in it; the pleasure with which she listened to the cultivated voice of Beatrice in song or in poetical recitations in her musical language, and above these, the interchange of thoughts of refined taste and delicacy which marked the sedulous care bestowed on the education of these lovely young persons, formed a bond of sympathy between them to last with life. Alas! that one of these fair flowers should have been doomed to wither, when it had just expanded its bright blossoms of hope and promise!

It may be presumed that Beatrice felt a natural desire to penetrate the veil which concealed from her view the name and history of the gentle incognita;

but any manifestation of this feeling would have been a departure from the promise she had made on her first introduction to her, and her father seemed disposed to adhere to his own resolution on the subject, for it was one on which he never invited her to converse. His lightest word had always been her law; and accustomed as she was to anticipate rather than to follow his instructions, she was content to enjoy the pleasure afforded her from this new and fruitful source, without seeking to dissipate the mystery that surrounded it.

Happy she was, also, to perceive that since the auspicious day of her first acquaintance with her fair friend, the cloud on the brow of her father seemed to lessen. Though there were evidently cares on his mind, they were apparently less corroding, and arose more from the wayward conduct of Victor, whose revolutionary sentiments and schemes could not always be concealed from his kinsman, than from any immediate apprehension of danger to himself and his fortunes.

Beatrice was one morning in pleased anticipation of the visit which was to relieve her solitude, and had fallen into one of those pleasant day dreams in which youth loves to indulge, when it was interrupted by the arrival of the young incognita.

"I shall not maintain this mystic guise much longer, Beatrice," she said, after they had passed an hour in their usually delightful manner. "Nor should I ever have assumed it but for the desire I felt to form an acquaintance with one, of whom I had heard a rapturous description. The young Count de Beaumanoir

is one of our best friends. He possesses the esteem and confidence of my father and family in a high degree; and at a time when he could speak with less reserve of you than circumstances now permit, I became acquainted with your virtues and accomplishments. I wished to judge for myself of the reality of his glowing picture, without the formality and etiquette which would have attended any other mode of introduction to you than that I have chosen. My object is now attained. I flatter myself that the ice of ceremony will never hereafter have power to raise a barrier between us, and I have exacted a promise from your father to present you to my parents soon, notwithstanding the determination he seems to have adopted to withdraw you at present from the world." With these words, she took her leave with her wonted kindness.

The reverie interrupted by the visit of the incognita was resumed, after she had departed. The thoughts of Beatrice naturally reverted to the subject on which her friend had delicately touched, and the warm commendation of the young Count de Beaumanoir brought a glow of pleasure to her cheek. Happily for Beatrice, for her well-being and future promise of life, the choice made for her by her father, in the manner understood and practised among the higher classes of continental Europe, had fallen upon one endowed with amiable qualities and accomplishments equal to her own,-one that she could love and trust.

Aware of the machinations that threatened the Comte de Visconti, Beaumanoir had resolved to un

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