She rose, and aproaching the mirror before her, amused herself by putting up afresh the curls of her hair.

"You want patience, Leopoldine," answered her sister, looking on her affectionately," and without that will accomplish nothing. You will require patience, as well to conduct you through the world, as to enable you to finish a purse." "Do you

"I know the rest, my sister," replied the younger, smiling. forget that a certain person has charged himself with the duty of teaching me the lesson? Ten purses like that which I am embroidering would not put me out of patience so much as this silence of M. de Berville. Can you conceive what detains him thus ?" added she, seating herself near her sister," for in truth he loves me, that is certain, and noth'ng remains but for him to avow the fact to my aunt Dorothée."

"This looks very like presumption, my dear Leopoldine," pursued the elder sister, "and that is not good; what can it signify to you what he thinks? I hope your happiness does not depend on him."

"My happiness? oh! doubtless not, but in a word, Stephanie, he is a suitable person, and if he will explain himself—”

"It will then be time to think of him; until then, my sister, I beg of you to see in M. de Berville but an estimable friend of our family, an amiable man whose society we honour. A young person should never hasten to give up her heart, above all-to one who has not asked it."

"Be easy on that subject, sister; I mean to keep a good watch over mine; the venture of your heroine of romance will never tempt me; but this is the fact, sister, I do not wish to remain an old maid."

At these words, which Leopoldine spoke inconsiderately, the countenance of Stephanie was flushed with a sudden crimson, and for a (moment shone with as beautiful a brightness as that of her young sister.

There is a condition worse than that," answered the former, with lively emotion; it is to have formed an ill-assorted union."

"Indeed, my sister, I did not dream I should give you offence," replied the young female, much embarrassed, "but the world is so strange! you know this yourself. Thus I cannot conceive how it is that you have remained single."

"If no one has wished to espouse me?" added Stephanie, smiling. "What! in reality? Can such a thing be possible?"

"Assuredly, although I believe it is a case which rarely happens, and I grant that it did not happen to me; for I found many opportunities of entering the married state, but not one which was suitable."

"You were, perhaps, difficult to please?"

"I think not. Whilst yet young, about your age, my hand was sought

by one who lacked nothing but a fortune, or at least an estate capable of supporting him in respectable society. Our parents, at that time deprived of the rich heritage which they have recovered since your birth, refused him my hand, for a motive which I have since, though by slow degrees, learnt to appreciate, but which then rent my heart. My thwarted inclination left me with an indifference as to marriage; it was the way in which my youth resented its injury. I would have none but a husband after my own heart; not finding such a one, I resigned myself to be no more then an old maid, finding it more easy to bear the unjust scorn and ridicule of frivolous people, than to drag on to my tomb under a yoke, troublesome and oppressively heavy."

"Do you not sometimes feel regret?"

"No, Leopoldine; that condition which appears to you so frightful, has its happiness, as well as the other states of life. I have shaped my resolution with a regard to the wounds of self-love, which I have had to endure; I have called unto my aid the arts and letters, which it is so difficult for married females to cultivate with constancy, without prejudice to their domestic duties; and lastly, when by the death of our dear parents, I found myself in charge of your childhood, in concert with our worthy aunt, my liberty became doubly dear to me. Had I been a wife and mother, I should not have been able to devote myself to you as I have done. Have I not had reason, then, to remain unmarried?"

"Well, if I should tell the truth, Stephanie, after all you have said, I should better like to be ill-matched, than not matched at all."

"This perverseness gives me pain, my child," replied the elder sister; "but I will believe that it is for want of reflecting on the matter that you talk thus."

An aged lady, the aunt of the two sisters, came in at this moment, holding in her hand a closed parasol, which she used as a support. She seated herself in an arm-chair, resting her feet on a footstool, which Leopoldine placed for her. After regarding for awhile both her nieces with a look of complacency, she addressed them.

"They tell me that M. de Berville it at the entrance of the avenue. For which of your sakes is it he honours us with so frequent visits? For my own part I am quite at a loss to say. The more I observe him, the less I can divine his intentions."

"You would be jocular with us, aunt," answered Stephanie; "there can be no doubt as to his choice; it is as if any one could hesitate between a mother and her daughter."

"But he has not explained his views," rejoined the aunt," and it is very

fine for you to make out you are old, my niece; I find you still very young, compared with me."

"You forget, too, aunt," added Leopoldine, in a lively tone, "that M. de Berville is, to the full, as old as my sister. If merit alone was sufficient, I should have reason to fear in her a dangerous rival; but my amiable sister is without pretensions; she knows that youth is an all-powerful advantage, although in reality a very frivolous one perhaps--~"

"Good heavens !" exclaimed the aunt, "take heed, my child; réckon not too much upon that youth, nor even on the beauty which accompanies it; I have seen strange things in my time; and a man capable of holding himself neutral so long, is not one of those who may be subjugated with a ruby, or caught by a well-disposed bouquet of flowers."

A smile of incredulity passed upon the lips of Leopoldine, who was about to make an answer in accordance with that smile, when M. de Berville was announced. Although of an age somewhat too mature for a very young man, his dignified and elegant manners, his fine figure, his distinguished intellect, his reputation as a man of honour, together with his fortune, made him "a match" which no young lady could deem unworthy; and I have made the reader already acquainted with the favourable sentiments entertained towards him by the beautiful Leopoldine. Stephanie entertained fully as high an opinion of his merits as her younger sister; it may be even, that being best able to appreciate the estimable character of M. de Berville, she rendered to it the most justice; but she received him simply as a mother who believes she has met the future protector of her daughter, and strove by innocent means, to bring to a successful issue the plan of happiness she had secretly conceived. The aunt, piquing herself on her skill in finesse, sat observant of the actors in the scene, hoping to penetrate from their behaviour into their most hidden thoughts. As to Leopoldine, the veil of modesty, beneath which she thought to conceal her real feeling, was not sufficient entirely to hide the joy of the coquette, rejoicing in the triumph of her charms. Yet that joy and that triumph received some checks; for she did not appear, even during that visit, to occupy exclusively the attention of M. de Berville, as though she alone was the object he came to visit. The conversation took a serious and instructive turn-one little suited to the young and frivolous. They discoursed of the sciences, the arts, and of literature. I have said that Stephanie had made these things a source of comfort and recreation -that she had occupied her mind in such pursuits, not for the purpose of display, but as a charm to her leisure hours; such a companion as M. de Berville was well adapted to value rightly the mind and the knowledge of Stephanie. She suffered herself to be drawn into the current of the various topics of conversation with a pleasure very natural; and Madame Dorothée

plainly perceived that de Berville was even more pleased than her amiable niece.

Proud of her youth and beauty, Leopoldine had disdained instructionneglecting, for childish gaiety, the lessons of her masters and the recommendations of her sister; music and dancing were the only arts that she would consent to cultivate; these, because they might serve to make her shine in the world. Incapable of taking part in the interesting conversation which was going on before her, ennui began to show its effects on her charming figure-moodiness took possession of her spirits, and fits of yawning, ill suppressed, threatened each moment to betray her. M. de Berville, altogether occupied in the pleasure he was enjoying, perceived it not, but Stephani guessing the misery of her sister, contrived adroitly to introduce the subject of music; and therefore, begged of her sister to sit down to the piano. She knew that her sister's voice was considered remarkably fine by M. de Berville, and hoped by this means to draw his attention to her; but the old aunt thought that she could perceive that their visitor found need to task all his politeness to hide the disagreement he felt to the proposition; and Stephanie herself discerned much of coldness in the compliments which he expressed to the pretty songstress.

e

Botany is a science peculiarly suited to females who reside in the country; it is a source of ingenious discoveries, and of pleasures equally elevated and delightful. Under the shade of trees, on the banks of the river and the brook, and on the sides of the rock, are its charming lessons inscribed. M. de Berville loved the science, and offered to teach it to the two sisters; they accepted the offer, the elder from taste, the young Leopoldine from coquetry, seeing no more in it than an opportunity of displaying her lightness and her gracefulness, in running here and there over the grass to gather the flowers. She insisted upon one condition, however, which was, that they should only go out in the mornings and evenings, so as not to expose their complexions to the heat of the sun. Stephanie approved of these precautions. The care taken by a female to preserve her personal advantages has in it nothing blameable, and Stephanie was the first in setting the example of this to her sister; but on more than one occasion, the desire to possess herself of some flower, rare or curious, carried her above the fear of darkening her skin a little; whilst Leopoldine, the miserable slave of her own beauty, could not enjoy any of the pleasure freely and without fear. One circumstance-and it is of a grave character-will show to what an extent she was capable of sacrificing everything to her frivolous vanity.

A burning state of the atmosphere was scorching up all nature, the sun at its highest point of splendour presented the image of that celestial glory, before which the angels themselves bow down and worship; the withered

plants bent beneath the solar ray; the birds were silent in the depths of the wood; the locust alone, interrupted by his shrill cry, the silence of creation. Bathed in sweat, the reaper slept extended on the sheaf, whilst the traveller, in a like repose by the side of some shaded fountain, awaited the hour when the sun, drawing nearer to the horison, should permit him to resume his journey.

In an apartment, from which the light and heat were half excluded, surrounding a table covered with plants, Stephanie and Leopoldine were listening to M. de Berville, whilst he explained to them the ingenious system of Linnæus, or the more easy system, the great families of Tournefort, when a letter was brought in for Madame Dorothée, who was engaged in reading.

"Our

"Sad news! sad news!" she exclaimed, addressing her nieces: excellent neighbour, Madame Rével, has met with a horrible accident; it is feared her leg is broken.".

"Good heavens! can such an accident have happened?" cried Leopoldine; and yesterday she was so well! We will go to see her to-morrow morning. Shall we not, Stephanie?"

"To-day, rather, Leopoldine; to-day.

Let us not defer for an instant the

consolation which it may depend on us to impart to her."

"Well, this evening, after the sun has set ?"

“No, no, let us set out immediately, and we will pass beside her the rest of the day; M. de Berville will, I know, excuse us.",

"Impossible!" answered Leopoldine," to go out, so hot as it is; it would be wilfully to seek a coup de soleil, which would make us perfect blacks for the rest of the summer."

"We can shield ourselves with a veil-with our parasols."

"I should not feel myself safe in a sack; and for nothing in this world would I leave the house till the day is over."

You forget, Leopoldine, with what courage Madame Rével came from her home alone, on foot, in the middle of a December night, in spite of the frost and snow, to attend you when you had the measles, because they told her you had expressed a wish to see her instantly."

"Well, sister, I would sooner confront a cold north wind than the sun." "The heat can no more be stopped than the cold, Leopoldine." "Nothing is so frightful as a black skin."

"Sister, though I knew I should become as black as an African, I would not leave our friend without consolation at such a time; I will go with our servant girl; believe me, you will here after be sorry you did not follow my example."

"Permit me to accompany you, Miss," said M. de Berville, taking his hat.