“And why must I not see you-not recognise you?' || his hands; "for, if so, your exaggerated delicacy and the "She wept again, and clasped my hand as she replied, oretical weakness made you throw away a couple of hunIt must not be! You will not care about ever meeting dred francs on a cunning street-walker, who took you in the poor beggar-girl again, and—no, my mother was right,|| with an every-day story about poverty and a sick mother, it is better thus! and you got nothing for it but one poor kiss! Poor devil, to be made such a fool of in Paris!"

"I told her that my journey would be a short onethat I should probably be back in Paris in two months, and that I hoped to meet her again. She only wept more bitterly, and shook her head. I asked why she doubted it. I feel that this is the last time I shall ever see you,' she told me. I do not think my mother will live long: our physician told me so yesterday-and then all is over! And even if she should live, when you go to London you'll soon forget such a pool, wretched creature as 1 am. Her grief affected me deeply. I tried to console her; I promised solemnly that I never would forget her. I made her promise to be in the same place on the first and fifteenth of every month to meet me. She promised it, smiling through her tears, as if she felt little hope of it. 'Farewell, then, till we meet again!' I said, as I clapsed her in my arms, and put a small plain ring on her finger; farewell—think of me sometimes, and do not forget the first and fifteenth.'

"How could I forget it!' she answered, looking up to me tearfully. But I shall never see you again; you are bidding me adieu for ever.'

"I could not refrain from kissing her soft lips. She blushed, but did not resist. I slipped a bank-note into her hand-she eyed me anxiously, and clung closer to me. Farewell, till we meet again! I said, as she gently freed herself from my embrace. The moment of parting seemed to give her courage; she threw her arms around me, and I felt a warm kiss on her lips as she said, passionately, For ever-farewell for ever!' and disappeared. "I have never seen her since. After a stay of three months, I returned to Paris; on the fifteenth, I repaired to the Place de l'Ecole de Médecine, and waited there over an hour; but my fair one did not appear. I went there again and again, on the first and fifteenth of every month; many a time, too, I strode through the Rue St. Severin, and looked up to the windows, and inquired for a poor German lady with one daughter; but I never heard of them again, and the sweet girl was right when she bade me farewell, for ever.""

Our hero told his tale with a degree of earnestness that added to its effect, and it plainly produced a deep impression, at least on the feminine portion of the company. Josephine wept, and many of the ladies wiped their eyes by stealth. The gentlemen had grown serious, and seem. ed to listen with much interest; only the Baron smiled meaningly, and touched his neighbour's elbow every now and then, and whispered something in his ear. When Froben paused, he broke into a loud laugh. "That's what I call getting cleverly out of the scrape!" he cried. "I always said our friend was a deep one. Only see how the ladies are moved-the dog! and my wife there is whining, as though the priest had refused her absolution. Capital, upon my word! Truth and fiction! Yes, yes, you have been copying Göthe-truth and fiction! It's a capital joke!"

This insinuation, and the loud laughter with when it was greeted, provoked our hero still further. He was about to leave the company in a towering passion, when he was arrested by an unexpected sight. Josephine rose up slowly, pale as a corpse, and seemed about to make some reply to her husband, but sank down lifeless. Everybody sprang up and ran about in confusion; the ladies assisted her, the gentlemen asked each other how it had happened so suddenly. Froben came near fainting himself, ir. alarm, and the Baron muttered curses upon the weak nerves of women, and their fastidious delicacy, that makes them faint so easily-all was confusion. Josephine came to herself in a few minutes; she wished to retire to her room, and all the ladies crowded after her, all busy, and all curious; a hundred remedies were proposed, all of || which had been found specifics in cases of fainting, and finally it was unanimously resolved that the Baroness' great exertions to entertain her guests, and the cares of her household, had produced the unpleasant accident, aided, perhaps, by the embarrassments she must have felt at the very improper language her husband had allowed himself to use.

The Baron was busy, in the mean time, in bringing back the company to order. He pledged his guests, and endeavoured to quiet their apprehensions by all the arguments he could devise. "It's nothing but a new-fangled notion," said he; "every lady of rank has weak nerves, and if she has not, she fears she will be taken for ill-bred; this fainting away is the fashion. Another notion is, that we must never call any thing by its right name; every thing must be so delicate, devout, lady-like, and propriety. fied, that its enough to drive a man mad. She is angry now, because I indulged in an innocent jest-because 1 did not melt away in sympathy at this most tender and affecting story, but, instead, ventured to throw out a few practical suggestions! Why, there's no harm in such things among ourselves! And as for you, friend Froben, I thought you were too sensible a man to take offence so easily."

The person he addressed had disappeared, and repaired to his chamber, out of humour with himself and with the world. He was at a loss how to account for what hap. pened, and his mind, half indignant at his friend's coarseness, half alarmed at Josephine's accident, was too much moved to admit of calm reflection. "Will not she believe me?" he thought to himself, "will she give more weight to her husband's sneers than to the plain, unadorned truth with which I told my story? What meant the strange glances she cast upon me while I was speaking? How could this adventure affect her so deeply as to make her turn pale and tremble? Does she really respect me, and was she offended at his rudeness, which must have lowered me so much in her eyes? And what did she mean to say, when she rose, to check Faldner's vulgarity? or to defend me even ?" He paced up and down his room as he thought thus, and his eyes fell upon the engraving of his beloved picture. He unrolled it, and eyed it with a bitter smile. "And how could I let a feeling of shame induce me to open my heart to beings who understand nothing about matters of which the fashionable world is ignorant: vice and meanness seem to them more proper, more natural, than unusual virtue. How could I forget myself so far as to speak of those lips and cheeks to stocks and stones! Poor, poor girl! how far nobler art thou, ir thy low estate, than these butterflies, who know real su The young man's colour changed; he noticed that Jo-fering and honest poverty only from report, and who treat sephine's eyes were fixed anxiously upon her husband; he thought he saw that she was of Faldner's opinion, and he was unwilling to be deprived of her esteem by this vulgar wit. "I beg you to say no more about it," he went on; "I have never yet had any reason to put a false colouring on any action of mine, and I cannot allow others to do it for me. I tell you, for the last time, on my word, every thing happened just as I have told it."

Froben felt hurt, and answered, in some displeasure, "I told you at first that I intended to avoid fiction, and tell nothing but the truth, and I hope you will not refuse to believe it such."

"Heaven forbid !" replied the Baron, laughingly. "The truth is, you made your own arrangement with the girl, and now you have built up a little romance out of your visits to her. But you told the story well-that I won't deny."

as a cable every virtue that rises above their own level! Where art thou now? and dost thou think of thy friend, and those evenings that made him so happy!" These thoughts changed the current of his feelings, and grief took the place of anger.

The next morning Froben turned over in his mind the Then, heaven pity you!" answered Faldner, clapping || events of the day before, and was debating with himsel

whether or not he should leave the house, when his door opened, and the Baron entered, crest-fallen and ashamed. "You did not come to table last night, nor this morning," he began; "you are angry; but be reasonable, and pardon me; I had drunk too much wine, and you know my weakness when I am heated; I cannot forbear joking. I have been punished enough already in having my fête end so, and making me the talk of the neighbourhood for a month to come. Don't make me more miserable; let us be friendly as before."

"Let the affair rest," said Froben, gloomily, as he offered him his hand, "I do not like to discuss such subjects; but to-morrow I must leave you; I cannot stay here longer."

"Don't be such a fool," said Faldner, who had not expected this, "to be off for such a trifle; but I always said you were a hot-headed fellow. No, you can't go; you know you must wait at any rate till we get an answer from the Don. As for our friends you need not be uncasy, for they all gave me a famous scolding, especially the women, and said you were right, and I was to blame for all." "How is the Baroness?" asked Froben, to change the subject.

66

Oh, perfectly well; she was only a little frightened for fear of some difficulty between us; she is waiting breakfast for you; come down and be reasonable. I must be off to the mill. It's all forgotten, is it not?"

"Certainly, only let us drop the subject," was his answer, and he followed the Baron, who, full of pleasure at their speedy reconciliation, informed his lady of what had passed, and hastened to the mill. To Froben it seemed that every thing was changed; perhaps the change was in himself only. Josephine's features, her whole deportment, seemed different. A settled melancholy, a tender sorrow seemed to have settled upon her features, yet her smile, as she welcomed him, was sweet and kind. She ascribed her illness of the day before to over-exertion, and seemed to wish to avoid the subject. But Froben, who set so high a value on her good opinion, could not consent to her refraining from all allusion to his story, and he told her, “I cannot suffer you to elude me so, BarI think little of the opinions of others. What do I care if they choose to measure me by their own standard! But really I should be deeply grieved if you should come to a false conclusion, or even entertain for a moment opinions which must lower me greatly in your esteem. I beg of you, tell me honestly what you think of me and of my story?"

oness!

She eyed him for some time; her fine eyes filled with tears, as she took his hand and replied-"What I think of it, Froben? If the whole world should doubt it, I at least know that you have spoken the truth. You are not aware how well I know you!"

His colour rose with pleasure as he kissed her hand. "How good it is in you not to misunderstand me," was his answer. “And indeed every word I said was the exact truth."

"And this girl," she continued, "is it she of whom you were speaking lately? Don't you remember when we were talking of Jean Paul's Clotilda, and you owned to ine that you were in love, and without hope? Is it she?"

"It is "he answered gloomily. "No, you must not laugh at this folly; you can feel too deeply to think it ridiculous. I know how much may be said against this fancy. I have often blamed myself as a fool, a dreamer chasing a shadow. I do not even know whether she loves me in return."

hovered before my eyes, and to see her once more was all I craved. I desire it still; I may confess it to you, for || you can understand and respect my feelings; aud I set out on a journey only because my longing desire to search for her and to look upon her drove me from home. And when I reflect upon it, it sometimes seems to me as if she might yet be mine! You turn away your head. Oh, I understand; you think I ought not to marry any one who was sunk so low in poverty, of such doubtful descent; you are thinking of the opinions of the world, and I have often thought over it myself, but, so true as I live, if I were to find her again such as I left her, I would take counsel only of my heart. Would you censure me severe ly for doing so?"

She did not answer; her head was turned aside, and rested on her hand. Without moving, she handed him a book, and asked him to read for her He to it, looking at her inquiringly; for the first time he could it understand her behaviour; but she made a sign to hit to read, and he obeyed, though he would rather have poured out the fulness of his heart still further. He read at first without attention, but after awhile the subject attracted him, and drew his thoughts more and more away from their conversation, and finally so engrossed him that he did not observe that the Baroness turned upon him a look of sadness, that her glances were fixed tenderly upon him, and that her eyes often filled with tears, which it was not easy to repress. By the time he had done, Josephine had recovered herself so far that she could talk composedly about the author; but he still fancied that her voice trembled at times, and the kind familiarity with which she had always treated her husband's friend had disappeared, and he would have felt unhappy, except that the warm feelings expressed in her eyes made him doubt the accuracy of his observation.

As the Baron was not expected till evening, and his lady had retired to her apartments, Froben resolved to sleep away the sultry noon-day heat till dinner-time. He threw himself down on a mossy bank in the arbour which the many pleasing hours he had spent there with his amiable hostess had endeared to him, and was soon asleep. He had left his cars behind, they did not pursue him into the land of dreams; pleasant recollections only came, and mingled and shaped themselves into new and bright images; the young girl of the Rue St. Severin hovered before him with her sweet voice, and began to talk of her mother; he scolded her for staying away so long, as he had never failed to look for her on the first and fifteenth of every month; he tried to steal a kiss to punish her, she resisted; he raised her veil, and saw Don Pedro, I dressed in his love's clothes, and Diego his servant ready to burst with laughing at the trick. Then fancy, at one bold leap, placed him in the picture-gallery in Stuttgart. The paintings had been differently arranged, he looked through all the rooms for his favourite portrait, but in vain, it was not to be found; he began to weep and to complain loudly, when the attendant came up, and asked him to be quiet and not wake the pictures, as they were all asleep just then. All at once he saw it hanging in a corner, not as before a half-length, but large as life; it looked mischievously at him, then stepped out of the frame and embraced her bewildered adorer; he felt a long, warm kiss on his lips. It sometimes happens when we are dreaming, that we think we awake, and say to ourselves it was all a dream, and so it was with him. He thought that the kiss wakened him, and that he open.

She does!" cried Josephine, involuntarily; but blush-ed his cyes, and lo! a blooming face, that seemed a welling at what she said, she added, "she must love you: be known one, bent over him. He closed his eyes again, lieve me, such noble conduct must have made a deep im- faint with the delicious feeling of the warm breath, the pression on the heart of a girl of sixteen; and in all her sweet kisses that he drank in; he heard a noise, he open 'anguage, as you have told it, there lurks, unless I am ed his eyes again, and he saw a figure in a black hat greatly mistaken, a very considerable degree of love." and cloak, with a green veil, flit away. As she turned corner she looked round at him again; it was the features of his beloved, and she wore the same envious mask "Ah! it's only a dream!" he said, laughing at himself, and tried to shut his eyes again, but the consciousness of being awake, the rustling of the leaves in the wind, and the plashing of the fountains were so plain that he was soon fully aroused. The strange and well-defined shape

Our hero listened to her words with delight. "How often I have said so to myself, when I was without hope, and looked back sadly to the past!" he rejoined. "But to what purpose? Only to make myself more unhappy. || I have often struggled with myself, have often sought to distract myself in the crowd, to occupy my mind with a press of business. That fair unhappy figure always

of his dream stood lifelike before his mind, he looked to- white handkerchief lying near him, which he did not rewards the corner, round which she vanished, towards the member to have placed there; he looked at it, and was spot where she stood and bent over him, and he thought sure it was his, for it was marked with his initials. "How be yet felt her kisses on his lips. "Has it come to this, did this get here?" he asked himself, in amazement, as then," he thought, not without aların, "that I dream by he saw that it was one of the handkerchiefs which his day, and think I see her before me! To what madness beloved had hemmed for him, and which re always kept will this lead? No, I never should have believed that as sacredly as if they had been holy reliques. "Is this any one could dream so vividly. It is a sickness of the another token?" thought he, as he opened it in the hope brain, a fever of the fancy, and I am almost disposed to of finding another billet-doux. He was disappointed, lut believe that dreams can leave foot-prints behind them, for he noticed something embroidered in one of the corners, those in the sand here are not the marks of my foot." and on examining it he read the words, "For ever 159 His glance fell on the bench where he had lain, and he "She has been here then!" he exclaimed, " and I have saw a folded paper; he took it up in great surprise. || slept through it all like a sluggard! Why this new token? There was no direction, it was folded like a billet-doux; why repeat those sad words which have made me so un. he debated a moment whether to open it or not, but curi- happy already?" He again asked all the servants if they osity prevailed, he opened it, and—a ring fell out. He had seen any stranger in the garden. They all said No: held it in his hand while he ran over the letter hastily. and the old gardener added, that no one had been in the "Often am I near thee, my noble benefactor, often am I garden for three hours but her ladyship. "And how was near thee, filled with that inexpressible love which grati- she dressed?" asked Froben, in great surprise. “Oh, tude inspires, and which will end only with life. I know sir, that's more than I can tell you," was the answer; thy noble heart beats for me alone: thou hast wandered she is always dressed like a lady, but what she wore I through distant countries to meet me, but in vain-forget can't tell you, by the same token, as she passed, she nodan unhappy creature-for what avails it? There is hap- ded in her friendly way, and said, 'Good-day, Jacob.'" piness in the thought of being thine, and thine only, but Our hero took him aside. "I entreat you to tell me," he it cannot be! For ever! was the word I said even then; whispered, "did she wear a green veil? had she large I love, indeed, but fate condemns us to live asunder; black goggles ?" The old man looked at him suspiciously only in your memory is she allowed to live as The Beg- and shook his head. "Black goggles! her ladyship wear gar-Girl of the Pont-des-Arts." black goggles! Why, how can you say so? her eyes are as clear and sharp as a chamois', and she to wear black goggles like the old women at church! No, no, sir, you must not let such foolish ideas get into your brain; and excuse me, sir, but the sun is so hot I think you had bet ter put on a hat for fear of a stroke of the sun." So said the old gardener and walked away, touching his forehead with his forefinger, to hint to the other servants that he was afraid there was something wrong in the young gen. tleman's upper story.

Our hero a second time fancied he was dreaming; he looked round inquiringly, but the well-known objects around him-the arbour, the trees, the distant castle, were all in their places, and he saw that he was really awake. And the letter was there-a real epistle, and no creation of fancy. "Perhaps some one is playing me a trick," he thought; "it must be so, it is Josephine's work, and the figure I saw was only a masquerade." He felt the ring lying in his hand, and turned pale as he examined it. No, here was no trick, it was the self-same ring he gave his beloved when he bade her farewell for ever. Though at first tempted to indulge in superstitious feel- The only way Froben could account for this mysterious ings, the idea that finally gained the mastery was, that proceeding was, that it was unaccountable; and this this token of his mistress indicated that she must be near || strange way of sporting with his affections and his honat hand. The idea was rapture; he would not allow our occupied him so much, that he did not see many things himself to doubt; he would see her, and that soon. He which otherwise would hardly have escaped his notice pressed the ring to his lips and rushed out of the arbour. Josephine's eyes were red when they met at table. The His glances wandered in every direction in hopes of see- Baron was cross and silent, and seemed to be obliged to ing her. But he looked in vain. He asked the workmen give vent to the ill-humour which clouded his brow and in the garden, the servants in the castle, whether they eye, by an occasional curse at his wife's bad cookery and had seen any strange lady. They had seen no one. He worse housekeeping. She made no answer; sometimes sat down to table in perfect bewilderment. It was in she cast a glance at Froben, as though imploring his asvain that Faldner sought to learn the cause of his embar-sistance or consolation; alas, she did not notice that her rassment; that the Baroness asked whether it was the husband watched those looks, and that they made the red scene of yesterday that disturbed him; his only answer spot on his cheek grow deeper. As for Froben, he thought was, "that something had happened which he should it nothing unusual, and did not even take the trouble to certainly call a miracle, if his reason did not overcome his ask the Baroness the reason of her husband's ill-humour; superstitious feelings.' nor did he think it strange that she grew more reserved in Faldner's presence, and when his friend forced him to accompany him on his visits to his farms, and spend the whole day with him in measuring, viewing, and calcula ting, he only ascribed it to his restless activity. One day, however, he was a little surprised at his behaviour. Faldner was waiting for him to ride out, booted and spurred. He feigned slight illness as an excuse, and on his adding, unsuspectingly, "Besides, you know I must stay and read to your wife sometimes," the Baron cried out in high anger, "No, I will not have any more reading Every thing is going wrong already without that. I don't want to have her head filled with such romantic notions as I've seen a sample of lately. Read to yourself, my dear fellow, and excuse me if I dispose of my wife otherwise. Go down into the garden, Josephine, there are some vegetables to be got ready for dinner, and after. wards be good enough to go to the clergyman's; you have owed them a visit this long time." Saying this, he took up his whip and walked away. "What does this mean? what is the matter with him to-day?" Froben asked in astonishment, seeing that Josephine had hard work to keep from sobbing. "Oh, he is always so," was her answer: your visit made a little difference at first, but he is now himself again." "But, for heaven's sake!" cried Froben, "send one of your servants into the garden." “I

مود

This strange occurrence, and the language of the note, which he read over ten times a day, made him very thoughtful. He began to consider whether it was possible for heavenly beings to mingle among men. He had often laughed at the enthusiasts who believe in appear. ances and messages from another world, and divine spirits that wait on man, as firmly as they do in the Gospel. He had often proved the physical impossibility of such apparitions, but what was he to think now? He determined to forget it all, and the very next moment wearied himself with efforts to render the recollection still more vivid. The next day it happened again that Josephine was too busy in household affairs to entertain him, and he repaired to the well-known arbour. He read, and as he did so, the thought that perhaps she might appear again, distracted his attention. The mid-day heat was exhausting; he tried to keep himself awake; he read with more zeal and exertion, but his head gradually fell back, the book dropped from his hands, and he fell asleep.

He awoke at about the same hour as on the day before, but no green-veiled figure was in sight; he laughed at himself for having expected her, and rose up sad and discon'ented to return to the castle. All at once he saw a

must not," she answered decidedly, "I must see to it my- came upon him; it almost dazzled him, but he embraced self," "And the visit to the clergyman's!" "You have her, and gazed at her with looks of love and wonder. heard that I must pay it; let us say no more about it. You-you are she, and it is no dream!" he exclaimed. But yourself seemed changed within these few days; you 'Did I hear aright? Did you say that you were my beare not so cheerful as you were. Do you find it disagree-loved girl? Oh, heavens! what a cloud was upon my able here? Have either my husband or myself done any thing that is unpleasant ?"