The sun shone out brightly; and, after a few miles, the country began to promise better things. The river gradually sank into a level with green meadows, parted from each other by little obstreperous brooks, and sprinkled with cattle. Here and there a white-blossomed thorn gave token of more mature cultivation; and presently the young elms were seen outgrowing their dwarf neighbours of the hedgerow, and breaking the blue horizon with the swelling outlines and tender tints of spring. The scene of freshness and life was truly heartcheering to me, after the dreary regions in which I had passed the winter; but in Mrs. Carrol and Lucy, who had been doomed to them for three years, the effect which it created was inexpressible. The hurried and troubled conversation with which we had set out had sunk to repose, like the clouds above us, and the feelings which had impelled it had melted into an exquisite calm. The silence was only broken by the unwonted notes of the lark and the cuckoo; and, as we stole through the soft labyrinths of increasing flower and foliage, the warm blood trembled in Lucy's cheek,

and her bright eyes declined as though she could have wept. I gazed upon her listless and unconscious beauty, without daring to breathe a word, lest I should break a thread of the enchanting spell which it had cast over me. I loved to dwell upon it, without the intrusion of other thoughts-to expand my whole soul to its influence-for, in proportion as I discovered my ability to value Lucy, I valued myself.

In this happy mood we continued our voyage, till the grey stony banks were shelving over us, and the wild birch and the willow flung their light wreaths from either side in tangled profusionnow admitting a trembling glimpse of the warm blue sky, and now pierced by a sunset ray, which trailed down some leafy tendril, and shot, like a star, upon the dark stream beneath it. The country rose gradually in the gentle hills which our conductor had described; and our voyage ended where a rude bridge united two mazy pathways, the one leading to a little overgrown hamlet, and the other to the romantic abode which we were seeking.

The charm which had hitherto bound us in silence was now broken by exclamations of

wonder and delight. The cottage was, indeed, no less inviting than its description had been. It belonged to people of taste, who had furnished it, inside and out, with every kind of rustic ornament and convenience, and, what was of more importance, it was at our service, together with the peasants who had been left in charge of it.

In less than an hour I had instated my companions in their new home, as comfortably as though they had never known any other, and had procured for myself the state apartment of the little inn, about half a mile distant. Having effected this, we had nothing to do but to sit by the open casement and enjoy the soft breeze, which lent wings to the wild odours of the forest and the music of the neighbouring stream. We sat til long after the sun had gone down, yet still we could not move from our station. The nightingales were beginning their revels, and the old white owl was performing his querulous evolutions, over the waving sheet of golden furze blossoms; the stars, too, were twinkling as if the heavens laughed upon us; and Lucy was flinging her fond arms

round the neck of her mother, and wishing that such an hour could last for ever. The journey, however, and the agitations of the day, rendered it necessary for the latter to retire to rest, and I was left for a space with Lucy alone. I fancied that I could perceive the life-blood sporting through her whole frame, and that the pure sensations of joy, which can dispose us to regard with affection those who, at other moments, would be indifferent to us, had more than usually softened her expression towards me. And yet, she was becoming so more and more perfect (for the face never yet was so lovely but it might grow more so by looking on us with kindness), that my spirit sank within me, and ached with the foreboding that the love of such a creature-the love which her nature could only suffer to exist romantic and intense as her beauty-was too much to be the boast of mortal man.

Hope, however, is a hardy plant, for which no soil is too barren, and I had grafted just enough of it upon my despondency to produce a very insupportable crop of doubts. In Lucy's presence I had always been in a tremor: alone,

my occupation had been to weigh my deserts, and retire within myself abashed and confounded. On the night of which I speak, the whole multitude of my agitations was alive at once, and the words which might have resolved my uncertainty as to the precise nature of her regard were a thousand times fluttering ineffectually upon my lips. By degrees, however, I took courage from the more than usual sensibility of her mood-from the confidence she reposed in me-from the certainty that my happiness was dear to her. My attempts, perhaps, were not so clear as they might have been, but she had no disposition to misunderstand, for the sake of adding to my embarrassment—she was startled-confused. I had evidently taken her by surprise.

"Can you doubt," she at length said, “ that I feel the deepest gratitude-that I consider you my kindest, my best friend? Indeed, I have no other; but had I thousands, I might ask the same. But let the subject drop, I beseech you. I never can leave my mother; therefore, whatever I might confess to you would be of no avail."