easy and affable. "I fear, Sir," bled you, though I cannot recall where." Then after a pause, she suddenly, and as if involuntarily, added-"Ah! now I remember!" But she stopped suddenly, and changed color. The Count deemed that she recalled some painful recollections, and to divert the conversation, while he partook cheerfully of his simple repast-" Who plays on that instrument?" inquired he, pointing to a guitar which hung near." My daughter," answered Madame de Surville ;" and if you please, Sir, she will sing you the Evening Hymn as you finish your supper."—"I should be gratified indeed." The obliging Rosalie, who had scarcely spoken, instantly fetched her guitar; and though a faint blush streaked her fair cheek, sang, in a sweet but untaught voice, this said she, "we have not a supper fit The Count was interested by this little narrative; and as supper was placed by the white hands of Rosalie, with a neatness delightful even to a fastidious eye, and as he gazed on her delicate and peculiar style of beauty, he thought her the pearl of cottage maidens. He had cares of his own which rendered his cheek pale and his eye thoughtful, but his rustic companions were struck with his fine and gentle countenance. "I beg your pardon, Sir," said Madame Surville, "for looking at you so attentively, but I surely haye seen one who strongly resem EVENING HYMN TO THE VIRGIN. The snows that shine so dazzling sheen, May not with Virtue's robe compareThis spotless vesture let us wear!" As Rosalie concluded, the Count observed her take what he thought a small cross from her bosom, and kiss it with much devotion. She then rose, and, hanging up her guitar, approached her mother, and tenderly embracing her, said she would go and prepare the gentleman's apartment, and afterwards retire to rest. Her manner in saying this, and the modest curtsey with which she departed, delighted the Count. How superior, thought he, is this simple maiden to most of our Paris Demoiselles. How soon a dancing-master and affectation would spoil that native eleganceyet how rare to find it in a cottage. "You are then Catholics?" said he, turning to Madame de Surville, "My dear Rosalie is, Sir, but I myself am a Protestant.""That is rather surprising!" said the sure I may trust to your honor never to reveal those parts of my story I wish to remain secret, and which will still further affect your feelings for this excellent girl."-" Believe me," said the Count, "as no idle curiosity, but a sincere wish to serve you, prompts my request, so with me your confidence will be sacred." The good woman mused a little, wiped away some tears, and drawing her chair close to the fire, began her narrative in these terms : Count, almost unconsciously.-His friend for my poor Rosalie. hostess sighed. "Yes!" said she, "there is much which is extraordinary in the events of my life, though they have been few and are drawing to a close; for I am weakened by sorrow more than by age, and all that grieves me is to think I must leave my poor girl unprovided for.""Have you no friends here?" asked her pitying auditor. Scarcely any, Sir; for I have not been in this place many years. The baillie, indeed, professes love for Rosalie, but he is a widower, with "I will commence my tale at that children, and it is said he was not period of my life which found me kind to his first wife. I should be happy in the possession of all the loth to leave one so gentle to such moderate comforts of life, and still protection.""True, indeed," said more so in the affection of an excelthe Count," she is a most interest- lent husband, who owned a small ing girl, and, from your account, competence, which, with his own very amiable. I wish I could be- industry and mine, sufficed our mofriend her. I have a wife, a most derate wishes. We dwelt in a town excellent woman, who will arrive of France, the name of which I here probably to-morrow in our car- need not mention. My husband riage. I think she will be extreme- was engaged abroad most of the ly pleased with your Rosalie."- day by his occupations, and my time Any one might be pleased with was fully employed in superintendher, though I say it who ought not; ing a school of young girls, the yet who has more right? She children of respectable, though not works day and night for my sup- opulent parents, whom I instructed port, delicate as she has always in the first rudiments of education. been, and will work for the poor I may say with truth no couple bore too, when she can do nothing else a better character than ourselves, for them; but I must trust to Pro- and my few scholars (for I would vidence, who knows her virtues, to not increase the number) were reckreward them!"-"All you have oned the best-behaved, the healthisaid," replied the Count, "has ex- est, and most happy of all the daughcited in me much interest, and a de- ters of our neighbors. It happened sire to be of service to you both. I one evening, when they were all am rich, and have, alas! little else departed, and I was quite alone, to do with my wealth than to make my husband being detained later others happy. If you would confide than usual, a sudden ring at the to me, although a stranger, some- bell startled me, for my visiters thing of your situation, and, if it were few and rare. Having but should be necessary, those peculiar one servant I went to the door mycircumstances to which you alluded, self, and was not a little surprised if my power and good-will could to see a lady of most noble appearassist you I should be inclined to ance, well dressed, and leading a offer both."-"You are very kind, little girl, who appeared about three Sir; and there is something in your years old." At this part of the features," added she, with a sigh, narrative her auditor suddenly start"which almost makes me think I ed. The good woman observed ought to confide in you, for in this it not, but continued absorbed in lone place such on opportunity may recollection. "You may guess I never occur again of making a made my best curtsey, not being used to see such fine ladies in our town, and civilly inquired what business she would honor me with.'Allow me,' said she, 'to speak to you a few moments alone in your parlor.'-Though surprised, I of course assented, and led the way to an apartment I kept in which to see any one who might call and wish to speak with me apart from my scholars. When I had offered the lady a chair, she sat down, indeed she seemed scarcely able to stand, and, to my wonderment, began to be much agitated, and wept bitterly; for, though her veil covered her countenance, I could hear her violent sobs. At last she spoke.'Excuse me, Madam,' said she; 'I am a mother, and my object here is to part with my little girl. Is the number of your scholars full?'Quite struck at the question from a lady of her consequence, I replied it was; and though honored by her commands, I felt myself quite unequal to the task of bringing up a young lady who appeared of such high birth. At this my mysterious visiter seemed more distressed. At length, raising her veil, she discovered to my view a countenance I shall never forget-all my life will its surpassing beauty and sweetness be as it were imprinted on my very heart. Madam!' said she, this is not what I meant to say; I have heard, from those who know you, of your extreme goodness of heart, your gentleness, your humanity to children. Unhappy circumstances, which I cannot explain, force me to join my husband, and leave our only child behind me. I have, alas! no friends to confide her too-but the good are all friends; those who act on the divine precepts of Christianity never can be strangers. I have the means amply, liberally to recompense your care of her; but to the kindness, the uprightness of your character, I trust, not to wish to penetrate the mystery which must, alas! envelope an unfortunate wife forced to choose between the father and the child. Oh, Madam,' she exclaimed, 'I am sure you feel for a distracted mother; do not refuse my request ! let me have the only consolation I can know in quitting this innocent, tender from her age and her sex,-that of leaving her with a worthy woman, one who fears God, and who will therefore perform her duty to my child. I care not for accomplishments-teach her to be good and happy like yourself; judge by these tears whether I can covet external advantages for her, when they have rendered her mother so unhappy.'-Seeing, by my silence, at once my emotion and indecision, the lady placed on the table a heavy purse of gold.'This,' said she, is to pay the first year of her charge-a similar sum annually shall be transmitted till the happy period when I may hope to claim her again.'-' Madam,' said I, 'suffer me to inform my husband.' No,' replied she; ' hesitate not, pause not to do a good actionyour heart tells you it is right. I swear before the awful Power, to whose protection I confide my child, I have told you the truth-more Í cannot add. You shall hear from me. Accept this precious deposit,' said she, looking at her lovely little girl, who smiled unconscious in her face; by so doing, you will save a mother from despair-you will perform a deed which will sweeten your last moments, and no possible harm, but great benefit, may accrue to you and yours.'-Then, before I could prevent her, she threw herself on her knees before me-she seized my hand, put into it the trembling one of the little girl, and was gone ere I had recovered from the stupor of surprise." The good woman paused, much affected by her interesting account: for so it seemed by the sympathy of her auditor, whose deep-drawn sighs and pale cheeks now drew her attention. "Proceed, I entreat you, Madam!" said he in a faint but eager voice, "I have been a father, and your relation affects me." Madame Surville bowed, and continued. "I will not dwell on my astonishment, or that of my husband, who was somewhat displeased at the transaction, as, he said, no good could come from such mystery; but the sweet countenance of the little girl, and her grief for the absence of her mother, endeared her to me, and I tried every means to console her. She had a little basket in her hand, containing a few plain but costly articles of clothing. We were most perplexed as to what religion we should bring her up in, being ourselves Protestants, though in a Catholic country. We had also some difficulty in accounting to our neighbors for this sudden increase of our family. As for making inquiries in the hope to discover more of the child's parents, we thought it both right and prudent to abstain. The little dear had received a severe and effectual caution herself against answering any questions; nor did there seem much to tell, but that she lived very retired in a small cottage, with her mother, and an old lady who was now dead. However, some of our doubts were ended in a few weeks, by the arrival of a packet containing more money, a letter, and some presents for the child. The letter was short-it thanked us in the name of two unfortunate parents for undertaking so important a charge, committing her, with the strongest entreaties, to our tender care, and assuring us we should be remunerated beyond our utmost expectations. One of the presents was a gold cross, which, by her mother's desire, has never since quitted Rosalie's neck; she kisses it night and morning, and it is doubly the object of her devotion. We were told in the letter, her family's religion was Catholic,' and were earnestly requested to bring her up in the same, which injunction we have conscientiously followed. The other present was a miniature picture of a gentleman in uniform, whom we supposed her father but this we were en : joined not to show her yet, as likely to raise too strong emotions in her young mind of wonder and regret, but to endeavor to reconcile her to her situation, and bring her up at once with care and simplicity. Many a tear have I shed over the letter, which breathed a mother's love in every line-and that picture, so noble, so manly. Excuse me, Sir, bit I thought just now at supper it had some resemblance to yourself."— "Have you still that picture, and will you let me see it?" asked the stranger, in a hollow voice." Why, yes, Sir; it is so long ago, no harm can, I hope, come from showing it to a gentleman like you." The good woman rose, unlocked a small closet near the fire-place, took out a little casket, and applying her finger to the spring, opened it, and discovered a miniature and a letter. She gave the Count both. He seized, and eagerly looked at the writing of the letter, and it dropped from his nerveless hand; then throwing himself into a chair, he covered his eyes, as though too much agitated to contemplate the portrait.-"Dear Sir," said the widow, "what moves you thus? Did you know our dear Rosalie's parents! Can you tell me where they are?"-The Count raised his face, and bringing the picture nearer the light, Excellent woman!" said he, " in this behold the image of what I was fourteen years ago, ere the sorrow of parting with an only child withered my youthful bosom."-Struck to the heart, Madame de Surville first turned deadly pale, then directing her looks to heaven-" The Author of all Good be praised!" said she. "If I must lose my dear adopted daughter, I shall at least place her in the arms of her parents."" Lose her!" exclaimed the Count, seizing her hand. "No; you have been to her a mother too long to be less than a sister to me and my wife. With us and your dear Rosalie shall you end your life." Let us pass over, however, these emotions of the first moments of surprise. When both parties had a little recovered composure, the Count declared his resolution to restrain his impatience, and defer declaring his affinity to his newfound treasure until the arrival of her mother, by which time Madame de Surville might have prepared Rosalie for the change. This worthy being could not repress her anxiety to be informed of the circumstances which had thus thrown his child on the protection of strangers. And as the Count found it impossible for him to rest that night, he determined to satisfy her solicitude, though the relation would prove a severe trial to his own feelings. "In me, my dear madam," said he, "you behold one of the sad examples of the misery arising from ungoverned passions acting on an originally good heart, but unregulated by principle. I was born to all the advantages of rank and luxury, the only and adored son of my father (for my mother died in my infancy, or her tender care might have softened my defects). Indulged, flattered, caressed, I became headstrong and impatient of control. My father, accustomed to gratify my boyish wishes, never reflected that a day might arrive when they would interfere with his own sentiments. With the same want of foresight he had brought up with me a female orphan, rather younger than myself, a distant relation of our family, and who being without fortune, was indebted to my father for an honorable education. Emilie de la Tour was-alas! I need not say what-for you beheld her the unfortunate mother of Rosalie -when in the prime of her beauty, matchless as it was, ere grief had tarnished its splendor. To her extraordinary charms she joined sweetness, wit, and accomplishments. Yet my father never appeared to suspect it was impossible for me daily to behold without loving her. Her education, like my own, had been imperfect, and her feelings were strong though amia ble. Neither of us seemed sensible that we had no right to dispose of our hearts and hands without consulting those who had a claim to our confidence. "To shorten my painful tale, our mutual but innocent attachment was discovered by my father. Never shall I forget his displeasurethe thought of his son, the heir to all his honors, marrying a portionless orphan, seemed almost to drive him to madness. My poor Emilie was hurried away without my knowledge to a distant part of France, to stay with an old aunt previous to being immured in a convent. By extraordinary exertions I discovered her retreat, and managed secretly to correspond with the idol of my soul. My father was pacified by her absence, and all might yet have been well, had not he unhappily proposed to me an immediate and illustrious marriage with another. Distracted at the bare idea, I however dissembled, but it was only to execute a plan which would render it forever impossible for me to marry any one but Emilie. By the plausible excuse of joining my regiment, I hurried to her, and thought myself the happiest of human beings when I had by entreaties, and almost threats of ending my existence, prevailed upon her to consent to a private marriage, which I procured to be solemnized. I afterwards returned to my father, while she continued with her aunt. What was my remorse for this hasty step, when, on my return, some disagreement between the two families had broken off the dreaded match! Yet was Emilie mine. We had won over her aunt to conceal our imprudence, and, through her contrivance, we enjoyed many stolen hours of each other's society, though empoisoned by conscious duplicity and disobedience to a parent. But when I became the father of a sweet little girl, my sensations were the most poignant every smile of hers was a dagger to my heart, and seemed to reproach |