with her lover, and know at once the extent of her expectations on his father. That she should be under the necessity of looking forward to these expectations, certainly mortified and wounded her; for she had a lofty spirit, and one that could ill brook de-. pendance on a being she neither loved nor esteemed; yet she felt also, that there was more true elevation of sentiment, in submitting to our necessities with forbearance and resignation, than by making useless opposition to inevitable evils; since she had now lost all that could make her present situation desirable, surely it was no longer to be regretted; and though she could not exist to those fond and relative connexions which render-life a blessing, she must live to the discharge of such duties as would make it supportable: "and," she exclaimed, while her ་ her whole face beamed with animation, "I shall at least find happiness in the certainty that Albenza enjoys it! for though from pole to pole divided, this anxious heart, true as the needle to its centre, will ever vibrate to each beat of his blown on each gale, that gives me life and motion, shall I inhale Iris pleasures and his pains, share in his sorrows, suffer in his griefs; and the last sigh that wafts my careworn soul back to the only Father it ever knew, shall be to beg a blessing on Albenza! Ah!" she added, with a sigh that expressed rather the settled gloom of despair, than the serenity of resigned dejection, "I will learn to think that the sun shines out of Terra di Lavora, to banish remembrance, to forget that ever I loved, that ever I was cherished!" Involuntarily, as if the idea had presented them for the last time, she gazed over the plains, the fields, the woods, once consecrated to delight, as valued friends, from whom she was about to separate eternally; yet not long was this sad solace permitted; for her humid eyes, as if in pity to her heart, obscured the view, and again were turned inward to herself. A knocking at her chamber-door now caused her to start from her seat, and give entrance to Laurentine, who, surprised at not seeing her as usual in the saloon, at the breakfast hour, had come to offer her refreshment; for this kind. motive Viola thanked her, but she soon perceived her visit had more than one intention, for she cautiously closed the door, and only seemed to wait a slight interrogation, to unburthen herself of a weight of intelligence. Viola, who guessed her meaning by her looks, soon gave her an opportunity, by an inquiry, inquiry, "if any farther news had arrived of the Marchese?" "OH, Signiora! here's a sad piece of work brewing up I'm afraid!" exclaimed the waiting maid; "Marco arrived by seven o'clock this morning, with orders to prepare every thing for the reception of the Signior his master, who is to be here to-day: to be sure, misfortunes never come single." "GRACIOUS Heaven! Laurentine, what mean you? what misfortunes can have befallen Albenza, cried Viola," turning paler than her own garment. "OH no, Signiora," answered Laurentine, it is not to be yet; it would not be décent, you know, so soon after my poor dear Lady's death; though Marco tells me she is to be thrust into the B 3 the earth almost before she's cold; for he has brought a letter for the Father Zanotti, from my Lord the Marchese, which, he says, desires that my Lady may be buried on the night after to-morrow, which is only three days after ber death." "GOOD Providence!" said Viola, raising her meek eyes to Heaven, “are the persecutions of this, the best of thy creatures, to extend even to the grave? Oh, I had better speed me from this mansion! misery-misery-I feel await me in my stay! I will write to the Abbess of the Santa Ursulina! I will before the arrival of this unaway feeling man-before the malice he bore to her, be extended to the wretched object of her protection! Alas ! Albenza, how must thy heart bleed at the indignities offered to the sacred remains |