be always dancing; or at least her face was constantly in motion, and as she was always kind and happy, its expression was a perpetual variation of the same lovely theme.

Emile (for our young friend's name was Emile) was also the possessor of a laughing, hearty, happy disposition, and appeared at once to recognise a kindred spirit in Emma, who now conversed pleasantly with him, while Therese walked beside them rather silently. At last they sat down on a seat which stood under a shady linden tree, and here they spent the time in talking and laughing, as usual. wanting to amuse young people when they are together!

How little is

So an hour passed away, until they saw a carriage approaching. "It's Papa," cried Therese, "I see him in the carriage," and so she ran off to meet him.

The other two remained together alone on their seat, which was at one end of the park, where it adjoined some fields, into which a small footpath led.

"I shall treasure your flowers," said Emile, when they were alone.

Emma was silent a minute or two; then she suddenly said, as if he had only just then spoken, "As a memento of the ball ?"

"Have you been thinking about it all this time?" said he.

"Why not?" and she looked at him. "It was very beautiful last night; I shall think of it as long as I live;" and then, as if rather surprised at herself, she added, "for it would be ungrateful to forget where one has spent a happy evening."

"Then we have at least one subject in common, which we will remember all our days," answered he.

Emma rose, for the carriage was now quite near, and Emile walked beside her as she went to meet it.

Albert, as soon as he saw her, got out quickly and came towards her. The young gentleman bowed, and he coldly returned the salute, and as he went up to Emma's side he separated him from her, as it were accidentally.

"Am I in the way ?" asked Emile, so quickly that the question sounded sharply even to himself.

Albert did not answer, but as Emma took his arm they purposely quickened their pace a little that they might be alone.

Therese followed with Emile.

"Is this gentleman an uncle of yours, gnädiges Fräulein ?” "No, he is a friend of Papa's."

"Oh! and of your own too, I suppose?"

"Of course."

"Well, but is he not something more to your sister than to you?" Therese stooped to pluck a flower from the wayside, but made no

answer.

"Perhaps I ought not to have asked the question?"

Therese said quickly, "Oh! dear, no!" but she suddenly stopped, and, after looking at him for some moments, she said,

"I will tell you a secret, though I ought not, but I know you will keep it."

"Do not tell it me," he said, suddenly seizing her hand. He checked himself for a moment, and then went on in an earnest voice

"I know it already. Is she not betrothed to him?"

"Yes, she is," answered Therese.

He cried passionately

“I feared as much! but as you have confided so far in me, I must also tell you my secret: I love your sister as I never loved any one before, and never shall again."

He said this hurriedly, and when he had finished, Therese looked down silently upon the ground; they then went on together without another word, and joined the rest of the company.

The transfer of the estate was almost concluded, and after dinner the carriages made their appearance, and on that evening our party was again at home. The rooms looked rather lonely and empty at first, but next morning saw everything again in its usual quiet course. took frequent walks with Albert; Therese was more diligent than ever in the management of the household, and made a thousand preparations for the journey, as the time of their departure drew nigh. The betrothed had never spoken of Emile; his name was not even mentioned between them. Emma was so frank and cheerful towards Albert that he almost entirely forgot Emile's existence. One circumstance alone was strange. There were times when Emma went alone into the garden, and appeared to find some strange delight in gazing vacantly at the ground, or at some plant as it waved in the autumn breeze. Therese seemed to be the only one of the family who noticed this, as well as that her sister went now quite slowly through the house, instead of flying joyously about, as had been her wont until lately. They had but once mentioned Emile. It might have been a week after the Ball, when Therese lay yet awake, while Emma tossed restlessly from side to side, until at last she asked

"I only just happened to awake; so good-night."

But, after a while, she called again

"Do you remember the day we were in the garden, when Albert came, and you followed us with that gentlemen? Did you say much to him ?"

"No, not much."

"I fancied you had been telling all sorts of things to each other." "What should we have to tell ?"

"But still, you were a long time walking with him ?"

They were again quiet for a while. Then Emma began anew"Do you know it always seemed so strange to me, that when Albert sat behind me, while we were dancing the cotillon, I disliked it very much at first, and yet I never was happier than when I gave him the camelia; Albert is so kind."

"Indeed, I know he is."

"I am so glad we are going to Rome; I wish we were there." "We will be, soon enough."

"Oh! yes, we have not much longer to wait; and now good-night again."

This time both fell asleep, and dreamed,—the one of Italy, the other of her sister's wedding.

Albert in his travels had acquired a keen habit of observation; nothing ever escaped the quick glance of his eyes; and now, when he walked with Emma, he several times thought he had seen something close by them rushing into the wood. At first he thought it was some wild animal which had started away at their approach; and yet he thought it was like the figure of a man. Emma laughed, and said that it was the peasant children setting snares for the rabbits, or searching for nuts, as it was now autumn time. At length, as he was walking by himself through the wood, he met Emile, who looked aside, and passed without appearing to notice him. What did this mean? Their estates were several miles apart. At last, one evening, as Albert was strolling, in twilight, into the garden, he distinctly heard somebody

springing down from the low wall which surrounded it; and again the young man suddenly stood before him, but passed on a few steps towards a grass-plot, and called aloud, as if to a dog.

"Herr von M.," said Albert, "if I am not mistaken ?"

"Yes, the same; right. Good evening. My dog has gone through the paling up there in the garden. He barked suddenly, and then jumped quickly over the wall, and I have been obliged to follow him. He often seems as if he did not know my voice."

"May I ask are you hunting in this neighbourhood?"

"No; I had some business not far from this, and wished to walk back. My servant has gone on before me with the horses."

This he said carelessly as he turned aside, and whistled to his dog, which now came up towards him from some distance.

"Have you often business in this part of the country?" asked Albert, politely, but in a peculiar tone of voice.

"Why do you ask?" answered Emile, as he patted his dog. "Because I fancied I had seen you here several times; did you not pass me the other day in the beech-grove ?"

"It is not unlikely."

"It is a pity that you never came in to see us."

“I shall do so the next time, if you kindly permit me.”

"I am afraid you will find nobody here if you do not come soon, for my friend's family and I go to Italy the day after to-morrow; I wish you good evening."

With a very polite bow Albert turned aside to continue his walk.

The young man stood for a moment as if stunned. Albert had scarcely gone more than a few paces when Emile sprang after him and placed himself exactly before him.

"To Italy you go?"

"Yes, Herr von M."

"And the young ladies too?"

"Yes, the young ladies also, as their brother is already in Italy." "And you go with them too?"

Albert hesitated, as it was easy enough to see what Emile meant; he was panting as if he had just been running. They looked at each other.

"Yes, I am going with my friend and his daughters."

And then Albert added slowly

"Why do you take such an interest in the matter?"

There was something so cutting in this quietness, for they well

knew what each thought of the other, and felt that each only wished for an opportunity for a quarrel,-that Emile did not take long to consider, but cried

"You are betrothed to Miss Emma ?"

He did not understand how to come to the point in any other way than by aiming directly at the immediate object of his thoughts. (To be continued.)

THE SUNKEN CITY.

THE sea was calm: the sunset, far and near,
Had strewn the waters with its floating gold.
I lay upon the deck, and watched the ship,
That glided through a track of waving jewels,
Whose thousand colours sparkled where she passed;
And, leaning there, I gazed with dreaming eyes
On the blue water, shining, mirror-clear,

Where, in each heaving wave, methought there glowed
A siren's bosom, false and beautiful.

So, piercing deep, and ever deeper, there,
Until my eyes had reached the lowest deep,
Dim, as through twilight shadows, I beheld
Cathedral spire and steeple-city walls-
Tall castle-turrets-quaint, high-gabled roofs-
Round towers, that rose with sound of ringing bells-
And soon an antique town, with all its streets
Full-thronged with citizens-most wondrous men,
Gigantic, with black hair, and saffron cloaks,
And wicker shields, and mighty brazen swords :
And, standing silently, at every door

Were maidens, with white arms and bosoms bare,
Who all were listening unto one who sung
A strain that haunts my spirit everywhere—
A strain I may not understand or know;
It breathed upon me with a secret fear-
A mystic terror of that phantom town,
Until I saw one house, that stood alone-
One antique mansion-in the city street,

VOL. I.-NO. IV.

R