closed; and Frederic, in the simple costume of other days, pale, care-worn, but with an aspect more proud than ever, stood before her, alone and calmly.

"Frederic! do you not know me?"

"I know, Signora, that I wait the pleasure of the noblest lady in Rome."

"Frederic, 'tis Teresina-unchanged-with every obstacle to happiness removed, except what you may create yourself. These walls, with all their treasures-mountains and valleys for a dukedom—nobility that may look down upon the proud-power that may raise the crushed hearts of indigence and virtue-these, with the first, pray heaven, the only, object of your love-these all are your's-if you indeed are Frederic, and can at length remember Teresina."

The effort was exhausting-she dropped where she had been reclining, and regarded him with the tremor of a supplicant.

Frederic stood unmoved. "I did not think," he replied, "that it lay in the course of human events to place me under the obligations which I owe to the Marchesa Teresina. I thought

that the once aspiring spirit had been crushed to a level with its fortunes-that he who had dropped disheartened on the road to fame would find nothing to break his fall to disgrace. I thought I could have borne insult, have received charity. Thanks to the Marchesa, I see a depth to which I cannot fall. This is indeed a noble palazzo. Here are the works which raised a race of mortals to something between mankind and the gods, and here are powers of enjoyment as far beyond the level of earthly experience. There is a beautiful and gentle phantom of remembrance which used to listen to the transport with which my soul drank in these wonders, and might bear me witness that I knew their worth unequalled. I know besides those mountain domains, and the greatness they bestow. They are endeared to me by the humble transcripts of my fellow labourers. Their possessor might build himself a throne of blessings. But the poor German is not so basely poor, that he can receive even these from a hand polluted—from a heart foresworn."

Teresina could answer only by a low scream of agony.

"That hand," he calmly continued, “without its gifts, had led me perchance upon a course more lofty than that which it paves with gold. But confidence is the quality of love, and Teresina's heart misgave her. To what end, therefore, was she to run run a perilous hazard, with all that woman looks for at her feet? She had her choice, and took the fortune she preferred. The feeling which withheld her not then can surely not detract from her enjoyment now-and it were hard indeed to sully such a lot by linking it with that which could not soar from the dust."

"Frederic, would you have me die in your presence? For what was this mighty lot embraced, unless to make it your's?—unless to smoothe away impossibilities to my being your's without it? Frederic, what has supported me through my bitter trial?-what has restrained the lonely anguish of my heart from seeking sympathy in your's?—what has made your name a stranger to my lips, your fortunes

a mystery, your fate a frightful presentiment, a hovering shadow, which I dared not contemplate and could not banish? What but the dread of not deserving, of being worthless to you? Oh! would you look less calmly, coldly, sternly, I would explain the past so that you should love me better than before we parted. You knew that I was poor, neglected, desponding. I have not words as others have to take my own part. Frederic, will your heart not help me? I never thought my feeble mind a match for your's, but you pursuaded, you over-rated me, and leave me now to feel it and to perish. Had you not said you loved me, I never had given this palsied hand to the fetters which have poisoned it. I should have lived as you first found me-my harmless history had died with me unstained; and now my very grave must be my shame, branded with falsehood, and by you!"

"Forgive me, Signora-I was ignorant of the fashion of your rank. I did not know it was a proof of constancy to give your hand in opposition to your vows, or a proof of love to break the spirit that bowed to your dominion; I did not know it was a reproach to call such things

by the name of falsehood, and will in future think them virtues which the lowlier born are too vile to comprehend. You will pardon me, for the mistake has cost me dearly. I too was happy when we met, but, in good truth, I have not been since so deserving of a continuance of that condition as the Marchesa Teresina. I have not shown my truth by plighting my faith to any other, by making her name a stranger to my lips, and her fortunes a mystery. No, she has been the theme of prayer to the heart she broke-the single thought of the sleepless night and wasted day the only vision which these eyes have pursued till my brain grew giddy, and this withered brow received, as may be seen, the stamp of the Marchesa's virtues. It were preposterous to place two beings of such opposite natures in the same yoke, and I must think that you are merely pleased to amuse a vacant hour, by seeing how far the some time enthusiast continues to be a theme for mockery."

Teresina answered not. She saw in the determined expression of Frederic that protestations were useless, and her look changed to the