companion, the still noble, but much changed and time-bowed, form of Mordaunt Leslie.

As they thus sat, surrounded by wreathing vines and bursting flowers, and enjoying the mild-tempered and illumined atmosphere, a beautiful child of about three years, loaded with fruit and flowers, and playing with a large curly-haired dog, came laughing and running from a thicket.

"There's Flora-come, Flora!" exclaimed all at

once.

When there is a kind-hearted grandfather, and a sweet aunt, and a gentle uncle in the family-and the father is adored as the lost one found-and the. mother is pronounced "the very sweetest woman in the world"—the only child, whatever may be its claims, will be an angel of course. But the little creature now staggering under its pretty burdenwhich the almost laughing dog was sportively, we had nearly said affectionately, endeavouring to pull away was really altogether lovely. Look, reader! Did you never see those blue eyes before-that little smile, that lightly pencilled brow-upon another face?

A few moments after the appearance of the child, two other figures emerged from the imbowered walk, which wound charmingly in along the high river-bank. The one was a gentleman, the other a fair girl-yet not altogether a girl. Somewhat there was in her face of sedateness which girlhood never knew. Beautiful she was more beautiful than ever! Happiness and love had shed on the young wife of the wanderer new and dearer charms. Health glowed on her cheek. She hung on his arm familiarly and fondly. A moment ere they came into view, he stopped and looked down upon her. Back from her forehead he put the soft hair unreproved. She returned his gaze with a glance of steady, trusting love. His hand lingered

over her forehead, and he shaded her eyes with it as one who peruses a painting.

"Why do you look at me so ?" she asked, half blushing.

"It was one of my young dreams, Flora," he said, "thus to scan your face-thus to meet your eyes— thus to avow-thus to hear how we love each other !"

They approached the mansion.

"Ah! there comes father!-there comes mother!" said the old gentleman, releasing the sunny infant from a dear embrace; and off she ran and bounded into her father's arms.

At this moment, one of the magnificent steamboats which ply from New-York up the river to Albany had sent ashore a boat. A single passenger landed. Conceive the pleasure of all on recognising Kreutzner, their old and valued friend.

The usual greetings were warmly exchanged; and the new-comer was welcomed with the sincerest friendship and hospitality. When the first glow of pleasure had subsided, he announced that he had brought from Europe a letter for Norman. "For me!"

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Ay!" said Kreutzner, handing it to him—" from one of the most extraordinary of your acquaintance.. It was sent to my lodgings, before I left Palermo, with a note requesting me to deliver it into your hands."

Norman took it eagerly, and broke the seal. Flora leaned over his shoulder, read the signature, and turned pale.

"Bless me-bless me !" said Norman. "Have not the fates done with us yet? I thought we had acted our parts;" and with strong signs of astonishment he read the name of the "Countess D." My dear friend," said Kreutzner, "this communication, I presume, will throw light upon the char

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acter of one of the most remarkable women I ever met. To me it will be interesting to learn any thing that concerns you; as, owing to our sudden separation at Rome, your own eventful story has never, in any connected form, reached my ears."

"There is little to tell," said Norman. "The singular discovery of Rosalie gratified the strongest wish of my life-the strongest but one," he said, turning to Flora; "which was, you see, in consequence, gratified also. Miss Romain

"Poor Rosalie !" sighed Flora.

"Miss Romain accompanied us home, where she was identified by many, and where proper measures were taken to make her identity and existence public. She continued, however, for several months after our arrival, the victim of an incurable insanity -shrinking from all who approached with signs of the most agonized apprehension and alarm; sometimes singing and smiling; sometimes praying and weeping, and acting over again fragments of the dreadful scenes through which she had passed: at length she died."

"And is nothing particular known of her flight?"

"No more than that she fled with that arch villain Clairmont, whose brutal cruelty drove her to madness. The Countess D was deeply implicated in the affair, but most mysteriously. This package will doubtless explain. There is one, however, connected with my adventures in Florence whom I have met on this side the water-the Marquis Alezzi. Betrayed by the priest, who, while he seemed the partner in a dangerous conspiracy, was in fact only a spy, he was stripped of most of his slender remaining possessions, and banished from Italy. In this country he has sought and found a shelter, and long resided in a southern state. His present destiny I know not. There are two more friends of

VOL. II.-R

mine," continued Norman, "from whom I am anxious to hear."

"I have been much since in Rome and Florence," said Kreutzner; "I may chance to have heard of them."

"The one," rejoined Norman, “is a most gifted young artist—a sculptor."

"Angelo N-?},

"The same."

"If you love him, I shall tell his fate with reluc

tance."

"Speak."

"He also, with Alezzi, was engaged in the conspiracy which occasioned so much talk at the time; and he also, after having been led on by the priest too far to retreat, was by him informed against, and fell on the scaffold-I saw his head roll in the dust.”

"Know you,” demanded Norman, after a pause and a slight shudder-" know you the fair daughter of Torrini?"

"That do I, and well too. She is the gem of Florence. Young, gay, and beautiful, her joyous face is pointed out to the stranger as the loveliest at court. But you are aware of her change?"

"No. I wrote once, but the letter was unanswered."

"She is the wife of Prince C-, and a brighter and happier creature never floated in the dance."

"But come," said Norman," the manuscript !" The curious circle gathered around him as he read.

CHAPTER XXX.

The Manuscript of the Countess-The Mystery laid open.

"Chorus.-All is best, though we oft doubt What th' unsearchable dispose

Of highest Wisdom brings about,

And ever best found in the close.

Oft he seems to hide his face,

But unexpectedly returns,

And to his faithful champion hath in place

Bore witness gloriously."

Samson Agonistes.

THE letter was written in a strong and bold hand. It was as follows:

"You will be surprised, Mr. Leslie, but not displeased, at these few lines from me. I render them to you as a duty. I should have performed it before, but for a circumstance mentioned below. I am going to sketch my history; not to solicit your sympathy, but because it is closely interwoven with your own. If I utter any sentiment in my own extenuation, or in my praise, ascribe it, not to vanity, but to truth. I have done with vanity and with the world. Long before this reaches you I shall be immured irrevocably within the walls of a holy sisterhood, where not even the farthest of its floating rumours can reach me more. What have I to do with vanity? I write as one dying, and you may read my words as those of one dead. Dead! oh, would to God I were !

"Fifteen years ago, in the loveliest part of Italy, there lived a family in easy circumstances, without rank or fortune, without the wish to obtain them.