The light of a bright morning awakened the lovers. Hildebrand raised himself to look upon the quiet beauty of his wife, and meeting the peculiarly clear and soft expression of her eye, begged her to excuse the injustice of his dreams. He had dreamed of frightful things; he had dreamed that he had married a mermaid. She extended to him her fair hand, sighed from her inmost heart, but said nothing. Hildebrand arose and joined the family, who were silent and thoughtful. Undine soon followed him. They all rose to meet her, and stopped in silent wonder and delight. An expression that seemed to speak of all within, which years, that had matured her form, had never given, breathed from her whole figure. It was gentleness, tenderness, delicacy, dignity. Undine was changed from a child to a woman in a moment-it was the effect of a soul, though but a few hours present.

The priest approached her first, beaming with paternal affection, and she sank on her knees before him, trembling with the feelings of devotion, and besought him to pray for the good of

her soul. Then she arose and embraced the fisherman and his wife. "Oh my beloved parents,” said she, "now I feel from my inmost heart what I owe you; how can you forgive me for all the trouble I have caused you?" But they forgave her and forgot it all in this expression of gratitude, the first which had ever satisfied their kind old hearts.

When Undine perceived the old mother begin to think of breakfast, she immediately went to the fire, and prepared and cooked everything, and would not let her take the smallest care upon herself. In this manner she conducted all day-silent, attentive, and tender-like a mother in modest dignity and affectionate bearing. They expected to see her, every moment, breaking out into something mad and foolish, but in vain. Undine continued kind and gentle, and seemed to be struggling with lofty thoughts which she did not attempt to express. priest could not turn his eyes from her. "Sir

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The

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knight," said he, a treasure has been granted

you by the goodness of heaven, through my un

worthy hands: cherish it as it deserves, and it will procure you happiness here and hereafter.”

Towards evening, Undine drew her husband to the door, to see how beautifully the declining sun shed his beams upon the grass, and the tall, slender trunks of the trees. Undine had always been attracted by the beautiful world, but as she told her husband, now it had meaning to her. "The clouds, and the sun which gives glory, and in giving, receives new splendors around himself, tell me that God is overflowing with loving kindness. Every object speaks a lesson of goodness. I will be," she said, “a loving wife, my Hildebrand. Have you given me a soul to be wasted? Oh no! but I will love with it as God loves! Thy house and all about thee, shall be beautiful as taste can make it; and who knows how many more sources of beauty I may find in nature with love to guide me? Who knows how much ingenuity I shall find my mind to possess, when the thought stimulates me, that Hildebrand's eye and heart are to receive the beauty I shall make? Hildebrand! look at yon

der trees! how gracefully they wave! that motion moves my heart; and sweet is the feeling it awakens! I will imitate God in this. I never will move so quick, and rudely, and frightfully, any more; love will make my motions graceful and touching to the heart of Hildebrand! Hark —'t is the nightingale. God's love for us tunes the voices of the birds; what pleasure they give us! Love will tune my voice, Hildebrand! and who knows how sweet and soothing it may be, when all my soul's tenderness is in it? Oh! nature is breathing unutterable tenderness; it is because God is overflowingly good to all the children of men. Hildebrand, if I reverence the soul He has given me, will it not penetrate all my words, and looks, and thoughts; and shall I not become a harp like nature, from which music will always breathe?

Hildebrand gazed on the beautiful creature with increased wonder and delight. "But there are storms in nature," said he, "and am I to have storms from thee, too, my fair bride? The sweet drops in thine eye at this moment may answer to

the dew of evening, but there are heavy rains, and are you to weep such sad tears, and will this be love?"

"God is love," replied Undine, in a thrilling

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tone, even in the storm and the heavy rain; but thy Undine will not reprove thee, if God will spare her the heavy duty; nor make thee sad with tears for sorrows of her own, if He will regard her prayer, that she may be ever conscious of this growing immortality."

There was something so quietly elevated in Undine's manner, such a holy light of prayer that mingled with the beam of tenderness in her eye, that Hildebrand saw it was truth and not fancy on her lips.

"What meanest thou, Undine," said he, "by the soul which I have given thee, the immortality I have imparted? Thou hast several times used these words, and thou must explain them now."

At this moment they had reached the bank of the overflowed forest stream, and the knight was astonished to see it flowing in gentle rip