"But I must investigate the matter first,” said the duchess.

The fishwoman then stepped forward-" Noble lady," said she, "if this evil disposed young woman is my daughter, she has the mark of something like a violet on her left shoulder."

"I remember;" said the duchess thoughtfully. "Come with me, girl:" and she left the room with the duke, both having silently embraced the weeping Undine. The fisherman and his wife followed, and the company dispersed.

Hildebrand and Undine were left, and as he pressed his sweet wife to his bosom, he exclaimed, “If thine is a true soul, my good Undine, how have we all neglected and abused ours!" Undine was soothed by the kind words of her husband, whom she loved so very dearly, that his approval weighed against the whole world's disapprobation, which, in her terror, she thought she had incurred. But that was not the case, as I mentioned above, though it is a natural thought in a mind of sensibility, which is agitated by unjust cen sure.

The next day a carriage was at the door to convey Undine and Hildebrand to the castle of Ringstettin; for Hildebrand thought that now Undine's eyes were open to the folly of the world, which prefers the things of show to the things of truth, her good heart would be wounded continually by what she would see in a vain and fashionable society. So he determined to carry her to his quiet country seat.

As Undine was dressing to accompany her husband, her maid servant said to her-"The duke and duchess have sent away the proud lady, and now her father and mother do not care to take her home, she treated them so ill." This the girl said, thinking, that perhaps it would please Undine to know that Bertha was punished. But the good Undine had no thought of pleasure in another's pain, and exclaiming, "Poor Bertha!" she broke away from her dressing maid and flew to her husband. She told him all she had just heard, and begged him to go and fetch Bertha, and insist upon her accompanying them to the castle of Ringstettin.

Hildebrand did not delay, but took the car. riage that was ready, and went to the Duke's. Bertha was at the door weeping. She said her parents had returned to their hut, telling her she might follow, if she could reconcile her mind to it. "And I am going," said she, "for I have no other home."

“But Undine bids me fetch you,” said Hildebrand, "to our castle of Ringstettin. Did you not promise us?"

Bertha heard these words with astonishment, but with delight. She did not know what to think of Undine now; for it requires a pure heart to understand the pure. And therefore those persons lose a great deal, who are not good;— they lose the knowledge of all that goodness in others "which lets not the right hand know what the left hand doeth."

When Bertha arrived at Undine's door, Undine was waiting, and seating herself between her husband and her friend, with a silent but kind embrace; they proceeded on their journey.

The beautiful scene soon attracted their at

tention. Undine's power to reflect the world without, had not been lost by the developement of the nobler powers of the world within. She began to imitate the songs of the birds, as she was wont of yore; and Bertha and Hildebrand, not able to resist sympathy with her innocent happiness, the journey proved very pleasant.

At the first opportunity after their arrival, Undine told Bertha the wonderful history of her own life, and how Kuhleborn had taken Bertha herself from her parents, and thrown her on the grass as the duke was passing by, on the other side of the forest. And she added that it was Kuhleborn who came up so mysteriously from the Danube, (who was his father) and had inadvertently betrayed the secret.

Bertha listened, and could not resist conviction; but was too proud and vain (for she had allowed the world's opinions, and the world's splendor completely to fill her mind) to forgive Undine for convincing her she was the child of peasants.

Bertha had more than neglected her soul, she

had perverted it. She could not quench her affections, and she had allowed them to fix themselves on unworthy objects. She loved gold, and glitter, and show, and for their own sake; and cared not for love, for truth, for duty. Angry with Undine, she allowed her mind to fix itself upon the injuries which she had inadvertently done to her. She said to herself, repeatedly, that Undine had deprived her of her knight, her fortune, and her rank, and she determined to be revenged. But she might have realized the facts as they were in Undine's mind; and done justice to her kindness which intended to bestow "the best of blessings," and had now given her a home; and it would have given Bertha happiness to understand Undine. This came of being selfish.

I hope you understand the operation of Undine's soul all along. You understand that she intended to make Bertha perfectly happy in giving her the knowledge of her parents: for she did not know that people with souls would ever care about distinctions of rank, and fine