avoidable circumstances to request a short interview with your daughter."

'Why, really, sir," she replied, "you have reason to apologise for your ill-timed intrusion. What business of so pressing a nature can you have with my daughter, that you are compelled to interrupt her in the midst of her nuptials? Cannot you communicate it to me? you may rely upon her hearing it the earliest convenient opportunity. You cannot possibly see her now, for she only awaits my return to enter the carriage with the count."

I again apologised for my interruption, but declined acquainting her with my errand, which was, I said, intended for her daughter's ear alone. After some farther urging on my part, she acceded to my request, but manifestly with the greatest reluctance. She left the apart ment, and in a few minutes returned with a young lady, whom she introduced as her daughter, and again retired. Her appearance instantly struck me: she was rather above the middle height, of a majestic and graceful figure; her handsome countenance was strikingly expressive, causing emotion in the most phlegmatic observer. She was arrayed in all the splendour becoming the wealth and rank of her intended husband: but her speaking features were darkened by a cloud of the deepest melancholy, forcing the beholder to the conviction that the blighting fangs of grief had already fixed upon her young heart.

As I gazed upon her speaking countenance, the conviction that the image of Louis was still engraved upon her heart, and that she was encompassed in the toils of some designing villain, irresistibly fastened upon my mind.

For some seconds I stood perfectly at a loss how to open my melancholy embassy, being convinced that the direful intelligence at such a moment would produce overwhelming effects. At length, in a faltering voice, I commenced the melancholy narrative. At the mention of her lover's name, the truth flashed like lightning through her brain, her face assumed a deadly paleness, she sunk upon a seat, and seemed gasping for breath. This was too much for me; I hastily produced the packet directed to her, and placing it in her trembling hand, turned away to avoid seeing the troubled emotion I was convinced it would occasion. I heard her tear open the envelope-a silence of some minutes

ensued at length I ventured to cast my eyes toward her-she had read the letter, and was slowly untwirling a lock of his beautiful hair, which he had wound about her miniature. The torrent of her emotions at length found vent.

"I knew it-I said it," cried she, in frenzied tones. "I have been deceived, I have been entangled in the snares of a villain. Oh! wretch that I was, to listen to his vile calumnies, to have had my mind poisoned by the breath of this reptile. But thou shalt be revenged, Louis; never, never, will I be his! but am not I, at this moment, arrayed, ready to be led forth his victim? thus, thus perish the wretch's hopes !" As she uttered these words, she snatched the rich coronet of diamonds that glittered in her dark hair, and dashed it to the floor, at the same time shrieking violently, and, in the paroxysm of her passion, tearing from her person the valuable jewels with which she was decorated, and throwing them from her with frantic energy. Nature could endure no more, she fell violently to the floor in deep convulsions.

Her screams, and the noise of her fall, brought her mother and several of the bridal party into the room; a gentleman, whom I supposed to be the count, hastened to raise and support her in his arms, others of the company crowding round her with looks of astonishment and dismay. Upon applying restoratives, she slowly recovered; but no sooner did she perceive the person who supported her than she renewed her shrieks, writhing in his embrace with signs of the utmost loathing.

"Unhand me, wretch," she cried, "thy touch strikes horror to my soul! Away, reptile! lest thou would have me expire at thy feet." She relapsed more violently than before, and was speedily borne to her apartment, followed by the wondering group.

I remained perfectly unnoticed in the midst of the general confusion, and therefore determined to quit a spot where my presence had caused so much excitement. Before I had advanced two steps towards the accomplishment of my purpose, however, I received a slight tap on the shoulder: upon facing round, the count stood before me. He was a man of middle age and stature, possessed of a good face and figure, but the former was characterised by a pe

culiar cold and sinister expression, which in my eyes betrayed a selfish and treacherous disposition. After eyeing me for some seconds, he thus addressed me: "I know you, you are some minion of Louis d'Olliever?"

"And I know you," shouted I, in my turn; "you are a most consummate scoundrel !"

"Enough sir," said he, leading me to a window, "enough! you see that wall which skirts the garden: if you will meet me there, in ten minutes, I will join you with weapons that shall settle this affair without more brawling."

I signified my assent to this proposal, and left the house by a private door which he pointed out. I had not arrived at the appointed spot more than five minutes, ere I was joined by my adversary, who carried a brace of pistols muffled in a silk handkerchief. He said nothing, but produced a powder-flask and bullets. Having loaded, I desired him to take his ground.

"We will each walk six paces," said he," and then turn and fire."

on

To this arrangement I assented. Placing ourselves back to back, he gave the word "" ready," and I stepped forward; but ere I had taken three steps, the villain turned and fired. The ball struck me in the back; and the shock was so great, that I thought I was shot through the body. Believing myself to be mortally wounded, I exerted all my remaining strength, and wheeled round, determined to take vengeance on my cowardly assassin. He had not stirred a single step from the spot, when a smile of malignant pleasure at the success of his murderous scheme, was visible on his countenance; seeing my movement, he hastily produced a second pistol, which he had till now concealed. I could hear the slight tick of the lock as he cocked it, but my arm was already raised, and before he could level, I touched the trigger, and with a shriek and a bound he fell a lifeless corse to the earth. I now grew sick and faint, my head grew giddy, the objects around me seemed rapidly whirling round, and I at length fell insensible to the ground, beside my prostrate enemy. When I recovered my faculties, I found myself in bed, with my wound dressed; but I was so reduced with the loss of blood, that I was scarcely able to move. To my bewildered sense, the strange scenes in which I had so lately

been an actor, resembled the creations of a disordered imagination rather than actual events. While I was endeavouring to reduce my ideas to some degree of order, the curtains of my bed were slowly drawn aside, and a female countenance of exquisite loveliness greeted my wandering eyes; it was but for a moment, however, for no sooner did she see that I was conscious of her presence, than she vanished as suddenly as she had appeared. Before I had recovered the surprise occasioned by this beautiful vision, she again appeared, accompanied by an elderly gentleman, attired in deep mourning. He sat down by me; and after expressing his satisfaction at my recovery from the stupor in which I had so long been plunged, he informed me, that I was in the house of the father of my ill-fated friend, Louis d'Olliever.. I was aware that he resided in the same vicinage as Madame de Chaluz, but I was perfectly at a loss to comprehend how he had discovered my intimacy with his son. He shortly satisfied my curiosity on that head, by giving me the following particulars :

It appeared that the movements of the count and myself had not been conducted so secretly as to escape the observation of several of the guests; one of them had followed the count and witnessed the whole transaction.

Upon the alarm

being given, the spot was quickly surrounded by the inhabitants of almost every house in the village. Among others was M. d'Olliever. On my being undressed that the wound might be examined, the packet addressed to him was discovered. The reader will easily see the result; I was conveyed to his house, where everything that could facilitate my recovery had been done.

Under the hands of my fair nurse, I grew rapidly convalescent. M. d'Olliever watched over my couch with the solicitude of a parent, and in his attentions to me seemed to lose a portion of that grief for the loss of his brave boy, which I was the means of acquainting him with in so extraordinary a manner.

I have little more now to communicate, with the exception that one fine moonlight night found me at the feet of her who had tended me throughout my illness with more than the care of a sister or mother. What I said upon the occasion, I will not trouble the reader with-the sister of Louis d'Olliever is now-my wife.

Madame de Chaluz was the widow of an officer, who, falling in battle, left her with an only daughter, (the ill-starred Helène :) she received a small pension from government, with which, and the little property left her by her husband, she maintained an appearance of gentility, and educated her daughter in a manner suitable to her station in life. Ever since she had taken up her residence in the village, the strictest intimacy had

arisen between her and the d'Ollievers.

Helène and Louis were much about the same age, and an attachment slowly but deeply wound mutually around their hearts. Madame de Chaluz saw this growing affection; but innately resolved that her daughter's beauty should win her an alliance more conducive to the ambitious views she nourished, than that of Louis, who would have to depend solely upon his own exertions for fortune. The appearance of Count de Lenois as a suitor for the hand of Helène confirmed this determination, and the departure of Louis for the army, which he had chosen as his profession, was hailed by her as a fortunate occurrence.

No sooner had Louis departed than the count urged his suit with ten-fold vigour, but his efforts to win her affec. tions were abortive; his wealth was despised, and his cold and heartless demeanour contrasted too strongly with the frank and manly bearing of his rival; the death of her lover occasioned a shock which, to a frame already worn down by grief and anxiety, proved fatal. Her reason was completely overthrown, she languished in that state a few months, when death kindly stepped in, and released her from her woes. "She sleeps well," and the first tears shed by myself and my happy bride fell fast upon the tomb of blighted love.

OH! WHERE DO FAIRIES HIDE THEIR HEADS ?

OH! where do fairies hide their heads,

When snow lies on the hills;

When frost has spoiled their mossy beds,
And crystallised their rills?
Beneath the moon they cannot trip,
In circles o'er the plain;
And draughts of dew they cannot sip,
Till green leaves come again.
Perhaps in small blue diving bells,
They plunge beneath the waves;

Inhabiting the wreathed shells
That lie in coral caves:
Perhaps in red Vesuvius
Carousal they maintain;
And cheer their little spirits thus,
Till green leaves come again.
When THEY return, there will be mirth
And music in the air;
And fairy rings upon the earth,
And mischief everywhere:
The maids, to keep the elves aloof,
Will bar the doors in vain ;
No keyhole will be fairy proof,
When green leaves come again.

THE REWARD OF GENIUS.

THEY were seated in a rich and shady arbour, over which the creeping vines wandered in every variety of curve, suspending large clusters of their precious fruits, while the atmosphere was laden with the mellow fragrance of the gorgeous plants which grew in wild untutored luxuriance about the shadowy retreat. The fading light of day yet lingered, and gave a rosy hue to the face of the maid who sat therein, as she regarded with mournful tenderness the youth seated at her side.

66

'Nay, Quintin," said she, say not so; it is feeling which actuates me-it is feeling which prompts me to say-it must not be. Had I not feeling for my father, do you believe I would act contrary to my own desires-would cause you unhappiness?"

"Is this your love?" said the other, with a tone of fretfulness. "Methinks it cannot be a very ardent flame when it is so easily extinguished by the perverse and obstinate tyranny of a

"Stay your words," interrupted she, as she laid her delicate hand tenderly on his lips. "You will respect the father if you esteem his child."

The noble mind of the youth was struck with the reproof, and although it was averse to his desires, her filial obedilence, that he instantly made reparation. ence told of so much pure and holy excel

"Forgive me, dearest," he entreated; "I spoke hastily and unworthy of myself. But your words have crazed my soul, which builds its happiness on the possession of you. If it may not be that I shall be your husband, oh promise me that no other shall!"

"I would fain do so," sighed the afflicted virgin; "but if my father commands, can I disobey? I have had no mother's care since childhood, but I have scarce felt the loss; he has thrown by the coldness of a man and been a very woman in his affection for me. Shall I repay his kindness with ingratitude? Alas! Quintin, if he tells me to love another, I cannot do so; but if he bids me wed-Quintin, you would not censure me?"

The expiring ray of the setting sun fell on her features as she earnestly glanced upon her lover.

66

"Ah," cried the youth with a sudden start, as he struck his hand upon his brow, why that blush, that agitation? Deceive me not, Elzia, you are not supposing a case. This has already happened. I see it all. He has selected a bridegroom."

The maid sank her head upon his bosom, and through her struggling tears she sobbed

"Quintin, thou hast said it."

Desperate was the conflict in the bosom of the youth, as he sat like one in a trance, his eyes fixed on hers, which, like the sun breaking through the clouds of the passing storm, gleamed from under their dripping lashes, and soon he dreamed he saw the rainbow of hope. "Who is my rival?" he asked with voice scarcely audible.

"Van Deg," she answered sorrowfully.
"Do you love him, Elzia ?"
"How can you ask?"
"Will you marry him?"

66

"Alas!" cried the despairing lover, why had I not been a painter!"

The bed of Quintin was one of thorns, as he threw himself on it and yielded to his agony of thought.

How vain, yet how ardently had he loved; how industriously had he laboured to procure her attachment, and just when he had achieved the victory over her confiding heart, all that he struggled for was lost-no, not lost-he could bear the thoughts of her death, he could weep over her grave, he could nurse the vegetation above it-he could: but to think that the prize must be torn from him to

be given to another's embrace, there was madness in it.

And then Van Deg, that rough, haughty, distant man, how unworthy he to possess a jewel of such value, how unfit to nurture such a tender plant, how unsuitable his unsocial spirit for the angel who needed some congenial soul to ensure her felicity.

"Will she not droop, wither, die in the cold atmosphere about him?" he asked himself, when at length exhausted nature yielded to weariness, and he fell asleep.

The mind, though, yielded not to the fatigue of the body; on the contrary, it seemed more filled with life. He imagined himself in the street. The bells rang, the people shouted, and gay equipages passed by. It was a day of public rejoicing, for Elzia, the daughter of Algini, was to wed Van Deg, the nation's favourite, the celebrated painter. People recounted the scenes he had delineated, and lauded the artist to the skies. All this grated on the mind of the dreamer, but he trembled, and the cold perspiration gathered on his forehead as the nuptial cavalcade approached; they halted at the chapel, and the groom conducted his bride, all pale and trembling, to the altar; he looked up the aisle, when, as the father was about giving his love away, he rushed up and seized her; she shrieked, and fell dead in his embrace; her relations and the priest all gazed in horror; he raised his eyes, saw the misery in their countenances, and as his face fell full upon the bosom of his lovely burden, he expired, and at that moment awoke. Still the forms were before his eyes, fresh in his recollection as if he had beheld the awful scene by the noonday sun. Impelled by an unaccountable impulse, he arose and lighted his lamp, and taking a coal from the extinguished embers in his chimney, he commenced the portraiture of the group upon the wall; as he drew each face, each lineament, he recoiled in surprise as their perfect resemblance to the individuals became more and more impressed upon him. As he concluded the outline, he beheld in it a faithful transfer of his dream, wanting nothing but the variety of colour. A thousand thoughts darted through his brain; he was wild and wandering, he flung himself on his bed, and when he next awoke, the rays of the risen sun gilded his apartment.

His first object was to seek the mural picture, and he trembled lest it had all been a dream; but there it stood, as if executed by a magic power.

"If this is the result of an effort with charcoal," cried he, striking his breast in a delirium of joy, "what might I not effect with other means? what might be my reward?”

As daylight sought its slumbers in the bosom of night, the lovers were again together.

"I am doing wrong," murmured Elzia, "in meeting you again, since I am an affianced bride. This night must be our last. It is a sad thing to part with those we love yet I act as virtue dictates, and we must meet no more as

66 Say not that we shall meet no more as lovers! Say that we shall meet no more; that will be sufficiently severe, for, Elzia, could we meet but to love to upbraid fate, which so cruelly divides us?"

"I must away," said the girl; "if Quintin's affection is pure, he will condemn me for tarrying.'

"Farewell, then, sweetest! If I lose thee I will wander to some distant clime, and strive to bury my regrets in new scenes and amid new companions."

He imprinted a kiss upon her willing lips. He watched her retiring form as it appeared and disappeared amid the foliage at intervals, till it was finally lost to his anxious view-then turned slowly and sadly away.

Never did father love his daughter with more fondness than Algini his child Elzia. Her good was his great aim; and as he was an enthusiast in the art of the pencil, he deemed that one of that profession would be most worthy of his child. These two passions of his soul mingled together in such a manner that they became but one.

He considered the canvas as a lasting monument for genius, and that he would best consult his daughter's happiness by uniting her to one who would be alive to all posterity by his works.

Van Deg had been therefore selected, as he was the boast of his country, and the figures of his creation wanted nothing but motion to make them such as the originals. Besides, he was wealthy, and would add to the affluence of the family. Finally, his daughter was not old enough to judge for herself, and

though she had confessed that she was prejudiced against her proposed husband, a few years of connubial intercourse would overcome that, and she would ultimately be benefited.

Just as he was at this point of his refiections on the ensuing day, a lettercarrier entered his apartment and handed him a letter, saying he would wait without for an answer, and had been bound by an oath not to disclose who had commissioned him to deliver the communication.

Algini was astonished at these words, and as soon as the other retired, broke the seal and read

I

"If the parent consulted the daughter's happiness, would he not seek from her if she does not love another? I think she does. But if Van Deg is to possess the fair being, may I be mistaken! May her marriage to the man of your choice not hurry her to another world! Her obedience causes her to submit. lay claim to her affections; but with these do not pretend to alter your determination. You have the reputation of patronising merit as it appears in painting. Defer the nuptials to this day twelvemonth, and let Van Deg on that day place his chef-d'œuvre on the left of the altar. If the one which appears on the right does not tell of a more skilful master, I abide the result. does, then it is but fair to leave to your daughter the privilege of choosing her partner from the two."

If it

The father was delighted with this proposal, as it suggested a trial of skill in his favourite study. He accordingly returned word of his acceptance of the terms, and notified Van Deg thereof.

A year passed away, during which the lovers never met. Elzia had lost sight of Quintin, and in answer to her enquiries concerning him, all she had been able to learn was, that shortly after their last interview he had left the city, and gone, no one knew whither.

The day was now arrived when she was to become a wife. Sad to her were the kind offices of the bride's-maids who assisted at her toilet, yet she sustained a smile upon her face, although her soul was weighed down by grief.

The chapel was thronged by people anxious to view the ceremony; and as the bride, richly clad, was led to the altar by her father, the latter announced that her hand was to be bestowed on