activity of thought, which had taught her, inwardly to prefer the dignity of truth to the despotic force of general and received opinions; that strength of reasoning, which had led her to condemn the oppressions of prejudice, and the tyranny of custom, had taught her also, that as a woman, she should submit to them; nay, that the very man, whose delusive arguments had led her to deviate from their laws, might, when the meridian of passion was in its wane, reproach her for having done So. It had been the care of her lost· benefactress, to impress this lesson on her mind, "that in the hey-dey of youth, and in the season of love and pleasure, the heart contracts itself into one narrow boundary, beyond which it fondly imagines it shall never be obliged to roam; but too soon is it driven from its self-created paradise,

deserted;

deserted; sad thought! perhaps despised by the beloved object who had spread the fascination! Whither then can it seek a refuge? where hope for an asylum? Friendship has shut its door, benevolence is closed by suspicion, and chilled by the fear of censure: lost, abandoned, and contemned, the wretched sufferer lays her down, and dies; victim of that opinion she once thought to have braved with impunity." Viola shuddered, as this well-remembered admonition came o'er her mind.

Fly with you!" she exclaimed; "oh! never-we may both be miserable, but we never can be united !" She sat down by the table, drew the letter again from her bosom, and deluged it with tears; while poor Laurentine, who possessed an overflowing share of the milk of human kindness,' crept close to her chair, and wept beside her.

"WELL,

WELL, Signiora!" she at last cried, every thing may turn out for the best, after all; for my own part, I don't care how soon I leave the castle, now my dear Lady is gone; for I declare it always throws me into a panick every time I see Father Zanotti stalking through the rooms, just like a great black giant, as he is; and then Bernardo, who looks for all the world like a murderer !"Viola started! the recollection of the conversation she had heard the preceding night, darted to her thoughts, and produced so strange a concatenation, that she could scarcely support it. Laurentine, who had, however, a confirmed aversion to both Zanotti and Bernardo, had now started her favourite topic, and it would have been no easy matter to make her relinquish it; she enumerated and exaggerated, with the greatest volubility,

their faults and imperfections, and concluded by asking Viola, "if she had never observed, that the Monk scarcely ever drew the cowl from his face, particularly when in company?”

VIOLA, who had not remarked this circumstance at the time, now replied, "that since she was reminded of it, she remembered it was a constant habit of his to do so."

"AYE, Signiora, I don't know much of these matters," answered the servant, "but strange reports go about the castle: some say he is only a bad spirit, in the form of a priest; for Pedro, one of the lay-brothers, declares, that he never eats, drinks, or sleeps; but there he is, all night, walking up and down the cell: for my part, I don't believe in ghosts, but I think

he

he has a troubled conscience, by the very look of him."

VIOLA, to whom this mention had conjured up images of death and horror, now demanded of her companion, "if it would be possible for her to obtain one last look of the Marchesa, before she was buried ?"

LAURENTINE shook her head, saying she feared it could not be, as the Abbate always came, as soon as Father Jerome had left the room, to lock the door; and that she and Bianca were not to sit up with the body any longer. She now proceeded to say, that if she could but get an. interview with Father Jerome, he would tell her a great deal relative to Zanotti, for that he was at the convent when he was first admitted one of its order. She was now called,

but