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In a second work, some palpable advance in the Catholic religion or not before Father FranRomanism, or Puseuism, or the modern non- cesco permitted his niece and disciple to become descript faith, hovering between the two, toge- the bride of one who “ knelt not at the same altar ther, with a high flavour of Young Englandism, with themselves ;” but are led to infer that two might have been looked for from so eloquent and Protestant English gentlemen, Leslie and Nezealous in adherent and expositor as the author- ville, made the sacrifice of their religion, while ess of “ Ellen Middleton." Lady Georgiana has much of the interest of the tale turns upon the shown better taste. Her Catholicism is as de- exalted steadfastness, the sublime heroism with cided as ever, but the machinery, the apparatus- which Leslie's youngest daughter, Ginevra, the if we may use the words of the sensuous and sole child of his Italian marriage, clung to what scenic features of the religion which she admires, is represented as her more soul-sustaining and apparently as much in its letter as in its spirit, is exalting faith, not so frequently obtruded upon the readers ; and Leslie had obtained his idol, purchased at whatas for “Grantley Manor”—which might, from the ever sacrifice, and remained with her in Italy, name, be preconceived the very spot on which the uncertain, or but too certain, of the reception disciples of Mr. Newman, or of “the Old Reli- which a foreigner and a Catholic, who was “not gion,” were to renew the Golden Age,--it gives an even a lady," whatever were her loveliness, or her unmcaning, but convenient title to the romance, genius, and virtues, might expect in cold, prejuand nothing more.

diced, Reformed England. As in “ Ellen Middleton,” the interest of the Two years of bliss passed; and again the young book turns upon a fatal secret, pent up in the and widowed husband was left alone with the bosom of the unhappy heroine, and one other per- infant Ginevra, who was nearly three years son only. In “ Ellen Middleton" the efficacy and younger than Margaret, her English sister. He duty of confession, and the comfort and blessing left both his infant girls to the care of their reof priestly absolution are directly and indirectly spective relatives, each to be reared up in the shown. Ilow much causeless remorse and mortal | faith of her mother, and spent a long series of agony might those pious provisions of the in- years in Spain and India, a cold and reserved, if dulgent Catholic Church have spared to the in- not a stern and heartless man. His Italian marnocent victim of an involuntary crime, who had riage, which, to his friends in England, had been never known the blessedness of pouring forth her as brief as unwelcome, was never talked of at troubles and sins at the feet of a holy priest, the Grantley Manor ; and Margaret, as she grew up, successor of the Apostles! A few grains of plain could only guess that she had a sister. sense would, indeed, in this case have been suffi- Under the care of a worthy but common-place cient to extricate the unfortunate heroine from all English governess, indulged by her grand parents, her perplexities, and many of her griefs, but in and caressed and spoiled by every one, the little the instance of Ginevra Leslie, the impassioned heiress passed a happy childhood and girlhood, Italian girl, the rigid Catholic, the distress is indebted for much that was bright in her lot, and more complicated, as with her the ardent love, all that was noble in her character, to the guarand devoted affection of a wife are either con- dian superintendence of Walter Sydney, the friend flicting or directly opposed to the clearest dic- of her father, and, in past days, the silent adorer tates of conscience.

of her mother; one, in short, of these middle-aged The story or plot is simple. Of incidents there guardian angels who, with a romantic admixture are few ; of characters not many out of the com- of paternal, angelic, and mere earthly love, watch mon routine of three volumed serious romance ; over their wayward charges, silently endure a of ordinary life, in its everyday interests and world of doubt and agony, while the perverse girl ongoings, there is very little.

is wasting her affections upon one or more young Some twenty years before the tale begins—which rivals; and, finally, all perplexities cleared away, opens at Grantley Manor-on a sunshiny evening, become the happy husbands of contented and symbolically following a rainy day—Henry Leslie, even happy wives--young ladies who, after some the heir of the domain, on leaving Oxford and set- experience of the trials of life, have found out tling on his estate, had married a quiet, gentle that first, romantic love, with all its delusive girl, the daughter of the village rector. She illusions, is but as the crackling of thorns under died within two years, bequeathing to his love a pot. The loves of Walter—" Old Walter,” as the infant Margaret, one of the heroines of our the petulant and charming girl whom he spoiled two-fold story. Leslie was not yet twenty-three. called him-proceed and terminate in the best and lle went to Italy to dissipate his grief ; new only approved way in all such cases, " made and tastes, interests, and excitements, arose amid provided.” A great deal of delicacy, disintenew scenes ; the fiery and poetic Leslie became a restedness, and misery, on the part of the sensinew man; and was finally completely Italianized tive, elderly lover, who “ might have been her by the exquisite beauty and innocent fascination father," and on the part of the heroine, the usual of the sister of a young painter with whom he illusions of passion, and the torture of ill-placed became intimate at Rome. We are left some- or unrequited love. For it is with the husband what in doubt whether Leslie was converted to of her sister that Margaret has unconsciously fallen in love, and thus fearfully complicated the of the inveterate nature of that father's prejudices against misery of Ginevra, resulting from a clandestine the religion which his wife professed.” or secret marriage.-In Verona, Edmund Neville, Information, through another channel, and a young Irish gentleman, on his travels, had seen from his mother, confirmed Neville's worst apthis lovely girl, and acted the self-same part that prehensions. her father, Colonel Leslie, had done in the same " This news had fallen like a thunderbolt on the heart circumstances, seventeen years before.

But with of Ginevra's husband, and never did a more fearful this difference, that Leslie was his own master,

storm rage in any human breast than swayed his in that

hour. He loved her ardently; and even in that moment and Neville, the only son and heir of a Protes- did not regret that he had bound her to himself by irretant gentleman, who, on hearing a rumour of his vocable ties; she was bis, and must be his for ever ; but son's attachment to an Italian girl, a Catholic, had the threatened consequences of that act must be guarded vowed to disown and disinherit him, and who took against, and his marriage remain a secret till such time measures to make good his purpose, if ever Ed- tions ; or, at least, in weakening the strength of his pre

as he should succeed in overpowering his father's objecmund should marry a Catholic. The threat judices. Perhaps, also, some vague hope crossed his came too late.

The guardian spirit of the young mind that he might work a change in her religious creed, Ginevra, her grand uncle Father Francesco, had and then the daughter of Colonel Leslie, and the convert gone on a mission to South America-her uncle,

to Protestantism, would be hailed by his family as the

most welcome bride he could present to them.” the enthusiastic artist, was dying—her father was far distant, and little remembered—and Ginevra,

And now the conflict of duty and affection, in who believed her lover's addresses sanctioned by the breast of the heroine, may be presumed to his family, and whose religion seems to have offered begin. But there is no such conflict. Ginevra, no obstacle to her marriage with a heretic, obeyed assailed by every influence that can move a senher own secret heart, and the wishes of her uncle, tient being, sacrifices her happiness, and almost and, though with some natural misgivings, be- her fame, to her husband's selfish interests and came the wife of Neville. Though aware of his wishes; but remains as inflexible to her religion father's “prejudices,” Edmund, swayed at this

as Neville's “ bigoted father” did to his—a steadtime only by blind passion, flattered himself that fastness which, in her character, is pictured as if the irreparable deed was done, he, an only son,

the noblest self-devotion, the highest heroism, would soon be pardoned, and quickly received while persons like Neville's ultra-protestant into favour.

father, though to be respected for their conscienFrom a dream of rapture the young pair were

tious motives, are described as “too stern, too awakened by letters from Edmund's father, ex

inflexible, not to create despair in the hearts of pressive of his cruel resolution ; but written in those who see no point by which to approach, no ignorance of the step his son had taken. Ginevra weakness by which to soften, no emotion by quickly apprehended something like the truth. which to work on their rugged conscientiousness She snatched the fatal letter.

and smooth impassibility.”

In the extremity of their fate Ginevra, sus“A thousand new and startling thoughts seemed to tained by her Catholic faith, counselled her husrise in her mind during that moment. the past; she foresaw the future; a fearful revolution band nobly. “ Truth, truth ; for heaven's sake was taking place within her. In his blind and selfish truth-and then misery and wretchedness, if God passion, this man who was by her side, who was holding pleases !" But Edmund wanted both her faith her hand, who was watching her whilst she read—this and her courage, and tacitly, at least, she conman had made her the instrument of his own ruin; had sented that their union should remain a secret. placed her, in her unsuspecting helplessness, between himself, and duty, and honour, and happiness, and there- In these distracted days, an unexpected letter there she must remain, like the angel's sword in the apos- from her father, who had returned to England, tate prophet's path, where the hand of God had placed directed Ginevra, who had now lost her uncle, her-and from that path of duty and of misery she must to join him. By a singular coincidence, she was

She saw it, she felt it; her heart sickened within her, her brain almost gave way ; reason would to travel under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Warren, have forsaken her, even love might have failed her in the latter the sister of Neville's father. This was that her hour of need—but religion was there, and the unexpected relief to Edmund. His wife would, torrent was stemmed, and the path was clear, and the in the meanwhile, be safe under the protection victory was won. must be met by him and by herself in the spirit of expia- of her family, and their secret inviolate, while ho tion—where sin or error had been; of resignation proceeded alone to Ireland, to smooth difficulties where the sin or the error had been involuntary. No which no longer seemed insurmountable. reproach passed her lips; there was reproach, and he felt it, in the incrcased paleness of her cheek, and in the

“Ginevra, once established in her father's house, tremulous accents of her voice, as she asked him, in a sub- acknowledged openly as his daughter, idolized as sha dued tone

must be by all who came near her, would stand in tha

eyes of his family in a very different light from the Italian "* And now, my Edmund, what can we do?'” girl, the niece of an Italian priest, the very name of

“He hid his face in his hands, and remained silent. whose country and of whose creed would be abhorrent Te dared not tell her how desperate was the struggle in to their most cherished prejudices. The sight of her his heart between his passion for her and his reluctance father's handwriting strangely affected Ginevra, and for to forego those worldly advantages which his marriage the first time a sense of guilt and remorse took possession with her threatened to destroy. It had never occurred of her soul. Instead of being (as poor Leonardo had to him for an instant to suppose that his father had the assured her) in some remote part of India, he was repower, even if he had tho will, to disinherit him, and turning to his own country at the very moment when she this stunning intelligence was communicated for the first had married without his consent, and she must meet him time in the letter that informed him of the strength and ) again with a secret in her heart, and in his home, and by

not swerve.

his side, bear his own name, which she had neither the the peculiarities of that house in which she was so soon right to assume nor the power to forego. Almost a child to be received under such strange circumstances." in years, quite a child in guileless simplicity, she was to

Margaret—the candid and sweet, if somewhat begin life with a woman's heart, and a woman's hardest trial-married, she was to bear the torment of suspense volatile and fickle Margaret—the beloved pupil, and the burthen of long concealment-innocent, she was the plague and the delight of Walter Sydney, to enlure the trembling anxiety, the keen apprehension had by this time tasted of the bitter of the cup of of guilt-she almost Alinched from the task, and her life, as well as her sister. Her father appeared courage well nigh forsook her. But even remorse-if the nervous regret, the newly awakened pang of recollec- to her cold and estranged. His tenderness was tion could be termed remorse, where even error had all reserved for his Italian daughter, that unscarcely been—was not selfish in that pure heart and known sister. Mr. Edmund Neville was already gentle spirit. IIer sin, for such she now called it, was

domesticated in the mansion, as an accident had confessed in deep penitence, and each suffering in store for her she hailed as the purifying expiation which God fixed his friend Sydney there for a time, and would appoint and at last accept.

On the following day, made his beloved Margaret his affectionate nurse. she spent an hour in the chapel, where she had so often Sydney had sympathized in her first dark sorrow, knelt, and in the place where she had received Father

as in all her feelings, and even resented the imaFrancesco's parting blessing, she prayed for him, and gined coldness of her father to his adorable, his her heart whispered that he was praying for her. haps it was his prayer which was obtaining for her at idolized Margaret. That young lady's thoughts that moment the peace and the strength she so much were running in different channel. Like most, needed. As the shades of evening were closing, Ed. if not all girls she now began to speculate upon mund Neville came to fetch her."

her own marriage as an event certain to take They parted:-and Edmund reached his home, place :his secret choking in his throat. His father's “ It must be confessed, that the idea had often sugfirst act was to place his hand on the Family gested itself to her mind that Mr. Edmund Neville, the Bible of the mansion whose decorations were

friend, almost, like herself, the adopted child of Walter,

the heir to an immense property in Ireland, and, as she relics of the battle of the Boyne and pictures of had heard, distinguished at Oxford for his remarkable the siege of Londonderry, and solemnly swear by abilities, would be a very desirable husband for the heiress the sacred book, and all that it revealed, never to of Grantley Manor." consent to his son's marriage with a Roman The relation in which Neville secretly stood to Catholic.

her sister, naturally gave rise to many perplex"All served to warn Edmund of the deeply-rooted ing incidents, and yet confirmed Margaret in the religious and political prejudi es of liis family. He was idea, that, changeful and singular as his conduct silent and abstracted, and the conversation was chiefly to her was, Edmund Neville was in love with her, sustained by his father and the clergyman of the parish. It often touched on the state of the country, and the re

as she more certainly was with him. He watched ligious animosity which prevailed in it. His heart sank every turn of her countenance, he approached her within him as he listened to the bitterness of party feeling eagerly, he turned abruptly away. He was often which appeared in every word that was uttered; and about to speak to her under great excitementwhen, in the family prayers that night, Mr. Neville so- he stopped short. His whole conduct was as unlemnly implored that his household and home might erer bo preserved from the inroads of infidelity and popery, and accountable to Margaret as to Walter, save on never harbour a Papist among them, the image of Ginevra the theory of his love for her. But Edmund rose before him, as she had stood with her meek and fer- remained silent till a day when he had very vent eyes raised to Heaven, pleading with him the cause nearly spoken at the manifest peril of cutting of truth and of eternity.”

down three volumes of very pleasant reading into Edmund had been bred in luxury, and habitu- one. She had expected a declaration where a ated to extravagance.

“ Work he could not; to confession only was meditated, and abruptly inbeg hc was ashamed ;" and, worse than all, he terrupted, Margaret behaved exactly as a young Awas deeply in debt. He perceived that, to con- | lady in her circumstances may be presumed to do. tend with his father's “iron rigidity of purpose Meanwhile the old and alienated friends, Walwas altogether hopeless, and now the idea first ter Sydney and Leslie, came to understand each suggested itself, and gradually strengthened in other better. Colonel Leslie read Walter's heart. his mind, " that Ginevra must give way.She He joked and even encouraged his love for Marwas young ; her convictions could not be very garet, and thus threw the over-diffident elderly deeply rooted, and the example of others, his lover into greater distress. There is, indeed, quite earnest solicitations, and the combined force of enough of Walter's fears, and hopes, and doubts, circumstances, might bring about what he so

as they all turn upon the same point, and hardardently desired.

hearted readers have generally less sympathy "So confident did he feel of success, that his spirits than becomes them with the passion, however rose, and he amused his imagination with various pictures ardent, which middle-aged gentlemen conceive of the time when he would declare his marriage to the for the daughters of a deceased mistress or old astonished world, and bring Ginevra home in triumph to

friend. his delighted family. His first step was to write to

Vere the case reversed, and the mature Walter Sydney, an old friend of his, and propose to pay lover a woman in love with the son of a former him a visit at Heron Castle. There were some matters admirer—with a lad who from infancy had grown of business pending between their two families, concerning lands of Darrell-court, that were adjacent to Mr. sufferable. But the nobler sex have many privi

up under her eyes, the thing would be voted in. Sydney's, which furnished a plausible pretext for this proposal. He felt an intense curiosity to see Ginevra's father leges, and the female novelists seldom overlook and sister, and an inexpressible interest in observing all or fail to acknowledge them.

While “ Old Walter," Margaret, and Edmund “She felt, by an instinctive impression, that it was her Neville, are carrying on their game of cross

sister who had come to seck her; a sense of faintness purposes at Grantley Manor, the family of Lord her, she almost fell. In an instant she was caught in

came over her, and as she was crossing the room to meet Dornington arrive at their seat from Italy; and Ginevra's arms, who placed her gently on the couch, from her friends Maud and Lucy, his lordship's drew her close to herself, twine l her arms round her own daughters, Margaret gathers the most contradic-neck, laid her aching head against her breast; and while tory accounts of her mysterious sister, now every the eldest sister sobbed, as if her heart would break, the hour expected. Lucy admired and loved the youngest soothed her with murmured words of affection,

even as if she had been addressing a weeping child. singular Italian girl, while Maud doubted or de

Margaret felt as if a mother was speaking to her, a tested her, and Frederic, their brother, owned he strange repose stole over her heart, she wept freely when had never understood Ginevra, nor ever felt at a soft hand was laid on her forehead, and a gentle earnest ease with her whom he described as he had kiss was pressed on her burning cheek. The evil spirit first seen her. The Warrens, who were conduct- ted, the icy cord that had bound her heart gave way; she

raised her head, smiled through her blinding tears, looked ing Ginevra to England, were met one day sight- at a fice which might have been an angel's; and, again seeing at Genoa.

finding hers in that sheltering bosom, murmured“ • They were just looking at a magnificent Vandyke, ""Sister, O sister! are you come at last ? Not the the first marquis of Brignole on horseback, and near them one I have expected for a few weeks, but the one I was a girl with her eyes fixed on this painting, and it dreamt of years ago.' struck me immediately that I had never seen such strange

“Another soft kiss was pressed on her cheek, and eyes or such a peculiar dress.'

Ginevra said "" • And it was Ginevra ?'

“Do not talk now, sister, your hands are cold, your Yes.'

cheek is burning. I know your heart is throbbing. My * And what was her dress ?'

own! I know you are suffering; you inust lie down ' A perfectly plain grey gown, no bonnet or shawl, and rest.' but what is called in Italy a mezzaro, a sort of veil which “ It was true that Margaret felt unwell ; but it was a covers the head, and hangs down like a scarf.'

strange comfort to cling to her new sister, to yield to her " • And her face ?-now do tell me something of her wishes; to suffer her to help her to undress : and then, face.'

when she laid her head on her pillow, to look up into her 'I have told you I cannot describe it. It is placid face, while she bathed her aching temples. and very pale. At times so pale and so still that she looks like a marble statue. Her eyes are of such a light

"Sister,' she exclaimed, rousing herself for an instant, blue that they sometimes appear almost colourless. ller 'you have come a long distance to-day; you must be hair, also, is of the fairest sort. The only dark thing in tired. What are you doing here?" her face are her eyelashes. They are like a black cur- Resting, dearest, by your side. I should like to tain, and throw such a dark shade under those very light stay here all night, watching you sleep.' eyes that it has the strangest effect possible.'

"No, no,' cried Margaret, you must not stay. Go, “ Then should you say that her face had no expres- sister, go; but let me see you to-morrow when I awake. sion ?'

I shall be so afraid of having only dreamed of you. It is " • No expression !-why, it is the most expressive 1 strange ; but I feel as if I had seen your face before. ever saw, that is the peculiarity of it. Notwithstanding Kiss me again before you go.' that extraorlinary stillness of feature, she renders her “Ginevra bent over her sister, kissed and blessed her, thonghts, by the intensity of her countenance, in a way and then, sinking on her knees by the side of the bed, that is perfectly astonishing. Seldom does a muscle of her she said, in a low voiceface move but a speck of colour rises in her cheek, and " • Sister, shall we pray together ?' decpens and deepens, while her eyes brighten, and seem “ Margaret put her arm round her neck, and, drawing almost to shine. They do not sparkle like your's, or like her close to herself, whispered in her carMaud's. Lucy says that you remind her of a morning in “ • Are there prayers that we may say together.' summer, and your sister of a moonlight night.”.

". The one that God himself made,' answered Ginevra; While they thus talked at Lord Dornington's and her soft low voice repeated the Lord's Prayer, and as

the amen fell from Marguret's lips, a heavy sleep closed dinner-table, the subject of their conversation had her eyes. reached Grantley Manor, whither Colonel Leslie Ginevra prayed sometime longer by her sister's side; and his eldest daughter were summoned in haste. she prayed in silence, and now and then printed a fervent Margaret on that very evening was the unseen

kiss on the hand that was unconsciously detaining her's. witness of the tender and almost passionately fond She gently disengaged her hand, reluctantly yielded her

A low knock at the door roused her from this position. reception which the father, so cold to herself, or place to Mrs. Dalton, and then retiring to her own room, so ill understood, gave to the stranger.

remained for two hours with her face buried in her hands,

and absorbed in thought.” “What was Margaret feeling ? She was there in the presence of a father, and of a sister-unheeded, unnoticed, This is a very pretty scene, and yet we ima. unthought of. A strange foreign tongue was in her ears, gine that the naughty, but candid and generous and the gestures, the tones of impassioned feeling, were English girl, petted and spoiled, and apt to be as new to her as the language which gave them utterance. She felt with indescribable bitterness, that she had no

resentful, is not less true to universal nature than part in their emotion, that neither in the past nor in the the character of the young saint who buried so present was she anything to her father ; her sister ap- many mysteries in her troubled heart. The two peared to her as a being from another world, who had sisters, thus instantly knit in affection, get on taken possession at once of an affection of which she had been unjustly deprived. llad she not also had a mother charmingly, until trifles “light as air,” and In her own little room, had she not often wept in silence weightier causes, together with the insinuations as she gazed on her gentle features, and had a father's of Maud Vincent, aroused the jealousy of Martenderness ever soothed or consoled her ?"

garet, who is compelled to notice the secret intel. Whileevil, jealous, and even revengeful thoughts ligence subsisting between her saintly sister and were busy at Margaret's heart, a low knock was Edmund Neville-Edmund, all but her own deheard at her door,

clared lover, and to whom she had given her

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ardent love! Many little incidents conspired to "As the latter turned round to speak to her sister, she confirm her doubts. She loved and admired

was struck by the expression of her countenance. It was,

as usual, very still, but painfully anxious.” Ginevra, and felt her superiority, but, like Frederic Vincent, could not “make her out."

Ginevra was a poetess, a musician -a Muse as

well as a saint, and her improvisations, musical "Can you persuade yourself,' she one day said to Walter, 'that Ginevra is only seventeen ?'

and poetical, fill many eloquent pages. Among Why, she looks very young, does she not ?' those who owned her varied spells, was

“ Old “ • Yes; but she is so wise, so wonderfully wise ! I Walter,” who was, however, more strongly drawn wonder if it is all real. She is like somebody in a book ; to her, because, deep-read himself in silent sufand yet I should as soon think my Italian greyhound fering, he felt that she was unhappy. One evening affected as my new sister. Such strange thoughts come into my head, Walter, while she is talking to me. Some- a jocular conversation arose on Margaret's pretimes I think of the Seripture text about entertaining sumed marriage with Edmund Neville, which angels unawares ; and then, again, she puts me in mind now was the common talk of the country. Gineof that beautiful stanza of Coleridge :

vra was shortly afterwards left alone with Walter, “ Her slender palms together prest, Heaving sometimes on her breast;

the Puseyite, or incipient Romanist. Her face resigned to bliss or bale

“ He had felt an increasing interest about her during the Her face! O call it fair, not pale

last few days. Like most reserved persons, he had a quick And both blue eyes more bright than clear,

insight into human feelings, and having often suffered in And each about to have a tear,''

silence himself, he easily detected the marks of silent suf

fering in others. That she was unhappy now he could no “ One morning as she was coming out of her room, longer doubt. IIe had sometimes fancied before that her she saw Ginevra at the end of the gallery, on which hier eyes had filled with tears, which a firm resolution had own opened, with a letter in her hand. She was reading alone restrained from flowing, but now he saw them stealit attentively, with one knee resting on the edge of the ing down her cheek faster than her hand could brush them window-seat. She seemed very much absorbed with its


He addressed to her some trifling observation, contents, and there was a spark of colour in her pale and her mouth quivered when she attempted to reply. cheeks. Margaret walked up to her, and put her hand There was not a shade of temper in her face ; but it was on her shoulder. She gave a violent start, and turned evident that she was struggling with a powerful emotion, quite pale, and when her sister said, with a smile, 'I am and steadily endeavouring to subdue it. Walter's prejuafraid I have startled you very much,' the colour rushed dices would not have been easily conquered, had this young back into her face, and she trembled visibly.

girl appeared happy, or had she, on her arrival among • I hope you have had no bad news from Italy,' said them, displayed a childish or ungracious sorrow ; but as it Margaret, while Ginevra hastily folded the letter in her

was, she was suffering, and she was struggling. The hand, and thrust it in the folds of her dress.

source of that suffering he knew not; where she found .0, no,' said Ginevra, mournfully: 'I have no strength to struggle he discerned not yet ; but he longed news to get from Italy: my only remaining friends left

to soothe that pain, and to help those efforts, as he would Verona some months ago, and since my uncle Leonardo's have longed to feed the hungry or to shelter the naked. death, and Father Francesco's departure for America, Ile pushed the portfolio towards her and said, the links that bound me to my native land have been

** Have you seen these engravings ?' severed one by one. And Italy'-she continued, with a

“She looked at them at first in silence ; but by degrees voice of more emotion than she had ever yet betrayed - grew interested, and then animated. A print of St. .and Italy is nothing to me now but a tale that is Peter's Martyrdom seemed to fix her attention ; she said, told-a dream that has been dreamt—a prelude to the in a low voice, as her head was bent over itlife that is now beginning.'

He must have known he was forgiven then-his ""A happy life, I trust,' said Margaret.

long penitence accepted—his trial ended! His suffering " Thank you, sister, thank you,' answered Ginevra,

must have been to him a pledge of pardon.' in a voice that, without any apparent reason to herself,

“ In general Ginevra was not perfectly at home in affected Margaret ; her manner was at once tender and English ; but when the subject incited her, she was eloabrupt, and she left her suddenly."

quent in a manner peculiar to herself. Her language was Upon another day, Margaret had requested her picturesque, and she spoke as others write, but with a

simplicity that took away from her conversation all apsister to place some flowers in the room of an ex

pearance of effort or affectation. There was something pected lady-visiter.

in the tone of her observations which harmonized with

the secret impressions of Walter's hidden life-that life of " She followed her up stairs, and not finding her in the the soul which holds its deep and silent course apart from room which she had pointed out, she opened the door of the all outward converse with the world, or even from the next, which was the one that Edmund had occupied all the most intimate associations of our homes and hearts. The time he had been at Grantley. Ginevra was standing by writings of past generations, the solitary studies of years, the writing-table, and examining the blotting-paper book. his instinctive yearnings after a deeper faith and a wider She was turning over the pages with a look of interest, sympathy than his own religious education or his own times and holding it upside down, she carried it to the light, afforded, had prepared him to feel for the young Italian, and seemed employed in making out some indistinct and he was listening to her original thoughts clothed traces of writing. Margaret felt an annoyance, greater in cloquent and expressive language, with an interest than she quite understood, at seeing her thus employed. mingled with curiosity, when he perceived that she sudWith that feeling of reserve and delicacy, which by nature denly checked herself, and turning round, he saw Edmund and by education she was particularly alive to, earnestly Neville enter the room.” as she would have wished to visit that room after Edmund's departure, and to detect and find pleasure in the Neville went away, and the conversation was most trifling traces of his presence, she had never ventured renewed. Walter said beyond the door, or even supposed it possible to gratify such a wish. Ginevra put down the book, and moving

'I have seen you for a few days, and scarcely knew towards the chimney, stood a moment gazing at the fire, you an hour ago, but I would fain serve you. May and then walking away, and meeting Margaret at the 1 ?-can I ?' door, started and coloured ; when she said to her, · You "Mr. Sydney,' said Ginevra, and she took both his have put the flowers in the wrong place,' Ginevra turned hands in hers, 'you have been very kind to me to-day ; back in silence, took up the vase of flowers, and followed and I do not regret'—she stopped a moment and then Margaret to the south bed-room,

went on-'I do not regret that you have seen me thus

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