to rid yourself of life!" said the affrighted

girl.

"I do," said the baron.

Anna could not answer; her face grew pale as monumental marble, her hands rigid, her eyes fixed, a faintness fell over her, she sunk bereft of life.

How touchingly beautiful she was in her helpless weakness; her jetty lashes hanging droopingly upon her clear cheek! the rash man was alarmed at his own deed, and with vehemence he called upon her name.

Once more the liquid eyes were opened; they rested reproachfully, almost fondly, upon the baron, who imprinted a passionate kiss upon those quivering lips.

"De Scala," said Anna, in a hurried, tremulous voice, “my destiny is at your feet. -I will be yours rather than you should commit so foul a sin as self-destruction.

But, oh, hearken well unto me. Much as I shall wish to perform my duty faithfully to you as your wife, I dare not ask my heart how far it is prepared for the task. Indeed, indeed, I fear I do not love you! What has love to do with gratitude? Methinks hate is as near to it; but, oh, no, no, I do not hate you! In misery my life would fleet were I to be the cause of your destruction. Yet think before you trust to a love which may be severely tried. If ever the wife you love should sigh by your side, if she should gaze invidiously upon younger love, what then, baron ?"

What then, Anna ! It is easily answered : I will forgive you. But listen, my own! you shall see others you fain believe are happy; you shall judge if that young love have dreamed of is only a

you

vision rarely realized."

“Oh, bear me away from here!" said

Anna, rather answering her own thoughts than the baron's words; "bear me from the haunts of my childhood,-from the bowers where in girlhood I have dreamed; I cannot dwell in this solitary spot, a prey to my own imaginings."

"Nor shall you, Anna; and thus shall every thought of your heart be obeyed; we will go to the land where your brother's wealth awaits you.'

"Ah!" thought Anna, "it is his country!" and she added aloud, "Yes, we will go.'

Long, long the baron spoke, but his words fell upon the ears of one who was nearly stunned by the suddenness of her position. She was no heroine, no stoic; she believed that her impetuous guardian would indeed have fulfilled his horrible threat; she even imagined that, for some long while, the idea had entered his secret thoughts: she never, for a moment, believed

it could be a stratagem to alarm her, and the words were said-" she would be his bride." What an era was this in Anna di Lucia's life! how pale she looked in her sables, as mourning for a brother she had known but to lose! she now, for the first time, felt how bitter it sometimes is to return a debt of gratitude. Now that she was a wealthy heiress, she would have found it more difficult to refuse the baron than when she was a portionless girl; for although her future husband would not be insensible to her fortune, he was not sordid enough for her to dare to offer it without her hand.

When portionless, she had shared the baron's splendour, and could she say him nay, now that she was rich?

Generous Anna! she sacrificed her young heart at the shrine of gratitude; but why counted she upon her strength?

image crossed Anna's

Cunnington's image

thoughts; he appeared to her sad and reproachful-but away, that dream had been -must not occur again!

At length the baron saw a flickering smile cross the pale features he was contemplating; and Anna said, in tremulous accents, "You must tell Mr. Cunnington of. . . . of...."

"Oh, Mr. Cunnington is going away! his father is ill, and he is going to sail by the packet to-morrow."

Anna was not sorry to think Cunnington would not witness her nuptials; but, nevertheless, she had enjoyed his presence, and she might never see him again.

How changed were her feelings as she returned home! but how dreadful the alternative of the baron's love!

Cunnington, who was a late riser, and could never be persuaded to enjoy the early