well to enjoy the open air; the evening is beautiful.'

But I interrupt your studies, my

said Rosabella.

lord!'

'By no means,' answered Fiodoardo; and there this interesting conversation came to a full stop.-Both looked down; both examined the heaven and the earth, the trees and the flowers, in the hope of finding some hints for renewing the conversation; but the more anxiously they sought them, the more difficult did it seem to find what they sought: and in this pain. ful embarrassment did two whole precious minutes elapse!

"Ah! what a beautifull flower!' suddenly cried Rasabella, in order to break the silence; then stooped and plucked a violet with an appearance of the greatest eagerness; though in fact, nothing at that moment could have been more a matter of indifference.

'It is a very beautiful flower, indeed!' gravely observed Flodoardò, and was out of all patience with himself for having made so flat a speech.

"Nothing can surpass this purple!' continued Rosabella; red and blue so hap pily blended, that no painter could produce so perfect an union!'

'Red and blue! the one the cyınbol of happiness the other of affection ... Ah! Rosabella, how enviable will be that man's lot on whom your hand should bestow such a flower! Happiness and affection are more inseparably united than the red and blue which purple that violet!'

You seem to attach a value to the flower of which it is but little deserving.' Might I but know on whom Rosabella will one day bestow what that flower expresses. Yet this is a subject which I have no right to discuss-I knew not what has happened to me to-day; I make nothing but blunders and mistakes. Forgive my presumption, lady; I will hazard such forward inquiries no more.'

He was silent: Rosabella was silent also. All was calm and bushed, except in the hearts of the lovers.

But though they could forbid their lips to betray their hidden affection; though Rosabella's tongue said not, thou art he, Flodoardo, on whom this flower should be bestowed;'-though Flodoardo's words had not expressed, Rosabella, give me that violet, and that which it implies;'Oh! their eyes were far from being si lent. Those treacherous interpreters of secret feelings acknowledged more to

each other than their hearts had yet ac knowledged to themselves!

Flodoardo and Rosabella gazed on each other with looks which made all speech unnecessary. Sweet, tender, and enthu siastic was the smile which played round Rosabella's lips, when her eyes met those of the youth whom she had selected from the rest of mankind; and with mingled emotions of hope and fear did the youth study the meaning of that smile. He understood it, and his heart beat louder, and his eyes flamed brighter.

Rosabella trembled ; her eyes could no longer sustain the fire of his glances, and a modest blush overspread her face and

bosom.

'Rosabella!' at length murmured Flo doardo unconsciously. Flodoardo!' sigh ed Rosabella in the same tone.

Give me that violet!' he exclaimed eagerly; then sank at her feet, and in a tone of the most humble supplication repeated-Oh! give it to me!'

Rosabella held the flower fast.

Ask for it what thou wilt; if a throne can purchase it, I will pay that price, or perish! Rosabella, give me that flower.'

She stole one look at the handsome sup pliant, and dared not hazard a second.

'My repose, my happiness, my life, nay, even my glory, all depend on the possession of that little flower! Let that be mine, and here I solemnly renounce all spelse which the world calls precious!'

The flower trembled in her snowy hand; her fingers clasped it less firmly.

'You hear me, Rosabella? I kneel at your feet, and am I then in vain a beggar?'

The word beggar recalled to her memory Camilla and her prudent counsels. 'What am I doing?' she said to herself; 'have I forgotten my promise... my resolution Fly, Rosabella, fly, or this hour makes you faithless to yourself and duty!'

it

...

She tore the flower to pieces, and threw contemptuously on the ground.

'I understand you, Flodoardo,' said she; 'and having understood you, will never suffer this subject to be renewed. Here let us part, and let me not again be offended by a similar presumption. Farewell!'

She turned from him with disdain, and left Flodoardo rooted to the place with sorrow and astonishment,

CHAPTER V.

The Assassin.

.

SCARCELY had Rosabella reached her chamber, ere she repented her having acted so courageously. It was cruel in her, she thought, to have given him so harsh an answer! She recollected with what hopeless and melancholy looks the poor thunderstruck youth had followed her steps as she turned to leave him. She fancied that she saw him stretched despairing on the earth, his hair dishevelled, his eyes filled with tears. She heard him term her the murderess of his repose, pray for death as his only refuge, and she saw him with every moment approach to wards the attainment of his prayer, through the tears which he had shed on her ac count. Already she heard those dreadful words Flodoardo is no more! Al ready she saw the sympathising multitude weep round the tomb of him, whom all