penniless as you thought my dear cousin to be a few hours ago. She is the heiress; I am her poor and humble dependent. I have for some time occupied her place by her particular desire; for she dreaded so much being united to any one who might only marry her for her wealth, that she resolved to conceal it, till convinced of the sincerity of the man she loved, by his marrying her while in ignorance of her real situation. I have now disclosed all, except pointing out the man who has won my heart. That I cannot well do, till he has spoken first; so I must wait, gentlemen, till you, who are so anxious for my decision, pass in review before me, and explain your various plans for my future comfort, as you will perceive I must be entirely dependent upon my husband."

No answer was given to this downright appeal. On the contrary, some few of her most ardent adorers slunk off, to the no small amusement of the merry maiden. After enjoying their confusion for some little time, she said,

"Come, my good friends, set your hearts at ease, I am not going to offer myself to any one of you. Here is the object upon whom I have long set my affections, and who, like the generous Earl Stukely, proposed for me when he knew how thoroughly unprotected and penniless a being I was."

As she said this, she turned to a young man who had been standing leaning on the back of her chair during the time she was speaking, and who, it was now recollected, had been a frequent visitor at the Palazzo. He was an English gentleman of small but independent fortune, and had been for two years engaged to the kind-hearted but eccentric Ellen Osmond. For her name was Ellen, as well as her cousin's. He had consented that she should personate the heiress while in Florence, on condition that she would not delay her marriage with him as soon as they should leave that city.

By the time this explanation had taken place, the earl and his blooming bride entered. the saloon, and it was curious to observe (Lady

Henry said) the extraordinary change which had come over the greater part of the guests in their manner to the young countess, since informed that she was the possessor of such enormous wealth.

It is true all hopes of marriage were at an end; but still the being mistress of such a fortune, in addition to her present rank, made her as much an object of attention and curiosity, as if she had never been seen by them before.

Earl Stukely, who had been informed when he retired with his bride, who she really was, and her motives for concealment, was amply rewarded for his noble disinterestedness, by finding himself sole master of such a wife and such a fortune.

They set off that very day on their return to England, first calling at the hotel of the dowager Lady Stukely to take leave, and inform her astonished ladyship that her son had indeed married the heiress.

Miss Ellen Osmond was married the following day to her constant lover, to whom she

presented ten thousand pounds, left by her kind cousin the countess as a wedding pre

sent.

It was a considerable time before the sensation caused by this rather singular affair subsided, and the real Ellen Osmond was an object of great invective. The crest-fallen and mercenary lovers never could forgive the trick which she had played upon them, but which, nevertheless, they really deserved, and no human being seemed to pity them.

I must now mention a person of much less importance than an heiress, namely, Lady Henry's protegée, Madelina Fasano.

On our arrival at Florence, I went with her to the residence of her aunt, a poor sempstress, who received her niece kindly, but who, it was evident, had no means of assisting her. I therefore brought the poor girl back with me, entreating Lady Henry to allow her to remain in her establishment till she could obtain a comfortable situation. To this our kind lady consented, and every thing went on as usual; when one day, while I was walking out with her and

dear Carlos, we met his persecutor, the savage Sophie. She instantly recognised him, and spoke in a fondling manner to him, while he could not conceal his fear and disgust. At parting, she gave the poor boy and myself so vindictive a look, that I felt sure she would injure us if it were in her power; but as that was not likely to be the case, I dismissed her from my mind, and endeavoured to persuade Carlos to do the same, but in vain, for he had a perfect horror of her.

Every day the gentle young page won more and more on my affections, and I felt happier now that I had one being whom I could love and caress. He returned my love with all the affection and gratitude of a devoted child, and I began to hope it might be many years before we should be separated; for I felt sure that Lord and Lady Henry never meant to part from him; and I hoped to remain long with them who had shown me such uniform kindness and attention.

An event, however, as unforseen as it was