CHAPTER XIX.

"SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER."

I pray Sir, tell me, is it possible

That love should of a sudden take such hold?

Wilt thou love such a woman? What to make thee an instrument, and play false strains upon thee?

LETTER XVII.

SHAKSPEARE.

CAROLINE ST. CLAIR TO MRS. BALCARRIS.

Grindelwald, Sept. 12.

Thank heaven, the poor invalid is better!— The fever has considerably abated, and though his recollection is not clear, there are gleams of returning sense in his wanderings which afford hope for his amendment. 'I have now some

hopes!' said the surgeon this morning, with considerable confidence. There is a There is a perceptible

improvement.'

Con

How grateful these consoling words were to me, you may easily imagine ! The Pastor himself returned to day from Berne. He seems a very amiable, retired, contemplative sort of character, with a fine mild expression of countenance, and great simplicity of manner. ceive my surprise and pleasure this morning, soon after his arrival, to hear a well known voice at the house door, impatiently ask for Miss St. Clair,' in English!—and though the inquiry might as well have been made in Hebrew-indeed better, for I suppose the good Pastor understands that venerable tongue-it was not, you may believe, long in being answered, by my flying into Lady Hunlocke's arms. She comes expressly to stay with me as long as I am obliged to remain.

'Did you really think,' asked the warm-hearted generous woman—that I would leave you here all alone, to act the part of sick nurse without a friend near you-and perhaps run the risk of losing your character too, by that very deed of generosity aud greatness of mind, that ought to exalt it above all praise. But this is a sad

censorious world, Caroline, and you shall not be the victim of its misconstruction, if I can help it. You are now staying with me,-with a matron-a widow-a steady sedate chaperôn-with an old lady, in short, not with a young gentlemanand the world can say nothing against it.'

Lady Hunlocke! old! steady! sedate! widow! matron! and chaperôn! Excellent! She is certainly not a bit more steady or sedate, and not very much older than myself. Still, it is true that she is a widow-a handsome widow-a rich widow

a fashionable widow-and consequently a most incomparable chaperôn;-besides being endowed with that high privilege exclusively confined to fashion-that she can do no wrong.'

'It will be no penance to me,—no sacrifice to me,' she said eagerly, in answer to my objection to her giving up her time, plans, and pleasures, for my sake. 'I won't pretend to interfere with your métier of nurse. I am no use at all in a sick room-can't keep quiet-can't hold my tongueam nothing but a nuisance-am sure to be turn'd But my nominally being here with you is all that is necessary for appearances-for your sake;and I can amuse myself as well here as any where else with rambling on the rocks, and the moun

out.

tains, and the glaciers-taking special care, however, of my neck-for I am sure no chivalrous knight will save mine, for me, at the expense of his own. It is, I assure you, quite as pleasant to me to be here, as any where else; and when this interesting Unknown gets well, you and I will make our tour of the lakes and mountains together. It will be delightful! It will be romantic! I shall enjoy it far more with you alone, than if any one else were with us.'

She

Dinner was now ready, at which she joined the primitive trio of the good Pastor, his wife and his old mother, after arranging her dress, and taking possession of the little apartment which they gladly consented she should occupy. insisted upon my lying down for a few hours(as I had not been in bed for two nights)-which I did, in the little apartment which communicates with the poor invalid's room, leaving the nurse, who, by the way is, I find, the village midwife, to keep watch by his bed side, with orders to awaken me whenever he should stir.

EXTRACT

FROM

LETTER XVIII.

CAROLINE ST. CLAIR TO MRS. BALCARRIS.

Lady Hunlocke has been amusing herself this morning with assisting to transform me into a Swiss girl,-by attiring me for the first time, in the costume of a Paŷsanne of the canton of Berne. The dress to be sure is uncommonly grotesque, but although the same, in make, that is worn by the women, working in the fields, it is also the costume of all the rich farmers' and small landed proprietors' wives and daughters-and the holiday suit is composed of very handsome materials. It consists of a black velvet boddice, embroidered with minute coloured beads, and with gold, studded with gilt buttons, hung round with a long silver chain, and laced up in the front with red ribbon. Beneath this jacket appear the full white shift sleeves, and a habit shirt, terminated at the throat with an embroidered velvet collar, to correspond to the boddice. The petticoat, either plain or trimmed at the bottom, as fancy dictates, is worn very short by the Bernese girls, but I have taken the liberty to make