DUCHESS OF LOREVAINE TO HER HUSBAND.

"MOST BELOVED.

"ERE this meets your eye, the hand which traces the lines will be cold in the grave, your affectionate heart saddened and overwhelmed in grief, and every faculty of the soul under the temporary dominion of deep affliction. This I too well know, but attend; -cast away to the utmost of your ability the desponding influence of thought; look beyond the tomb, and trust in Him who died to save, and upholds me at this apparently helpless moment, even to the offering up of a prayer for you! Do not then lament too intensely our temporary separation; --consider there must be higher views and feelings than the love of life; an inspired patience and sublimity above mortality. To reach that centre from which all are fallen, we must die! Remember this, and be steadfast in hope and faith.

"And now farewell! bless you.

"GEORGIAΝΑ."

The sun shone brilliantly, and a chorus of singing birds environed the castle as Lorevaine fearfully opened this melancholy letter. Twice he read it over; and kneeling down, implored in spirit the blessing his lips could not pronounce; his heart was agonized, and the helplessness of mortality weighed heavily upon his soul.

The funeral took place amidst hundreds of weeping children and grateful tenantry. Lorevaine was secluded in his room, brooding over his sorrow, when the door softly opened, and his child, the young Matilda, looking pale and weeping, threw herself into his arms, and embraced him in silent affection. Steenheime followed her, and seemed occupied in collecting parcels and giving directions as for a journey. Matilda took her father's arm, and said, " Papa, the carriage is waiting."

" For what, my darling ?"

" For Italy," she replied.

The sudden surprise at the moment disturbed

him; but all places were alike to him, and they left the castle for a foreign clime.

Lorevaine had continued in Italy for one year only, and had then left his little girl with her grandmother, Mrs. Montague, at Naples, and travelled alone into Spain and Portugal, which engrossed almost another twelve months. At the expiration of that time he had returned to London; and after arranging some affairs, he was desirous of avoiding general society, by retiring to a remote spot ; and Darmaya Castle struck him as the most probable place of rest, not conjecturing how exceedingly annoyed Lord Darmaya would be, and had been at the idea; he even supposed that he was doing him a trifling favour, in airing his old abode, and putting the apartments into habitable order. But Lord Darmaya had secret and hidden reasons of objection, which not even to his trusted Maria could he unburthen. He had left Lorevaine House in an agitation and worry, far surpassing that with which he had entered it; and he wrote that day to Darmaya, though not to an inmate in the castle.

CHAPTER XXII.

Ere the third dawning light

Return, the stars of morn shall see him rise,
The ransom paid, which man from death redeems,
His death for man.

MILTON'S Paradise Lost.

It was a fine bright morning in September, the air was balmy and pure, when Madame de Norman, Ellen, and most of the inhabitants of the village, crossed Darmaya heath towards the ivied Church, which lay embedded among yew trees, overhanging it in profusion from a gentle ascent on the north side of this remote wilderness.

The bell had ceased to tinkle when they closed the pew door, and Mr. Wardley was monotonously reading the prayers; the high notes of the clerk's shrill voice ended his amen, and the children of the parish seminary screamed the selected hymn as usual, when a stranger mounted the pulpit. He was apparently in delicate health, a feebleness of voice indicated suffering, from the tremulous intonation, which was, notwithstanding, soft and harmonious. In person he was not decidedly handsome, rather below the middle stature in height, and somewhat emaciated; but there was an expression of countenance so mild and serene, that no one could immediately withdraw the attentive gaze. In age, he might be about twentyfive or thirty; but feeling, more than years, seemed to have stamped the character.

He scarcely looked at any of the congregation; his eyes were raised so intently and so instantly in prayer. The sermon showed how the lost powers of life are to be restored, pointing out the remarkable agreement between Nature and Christianity; so proceeding on to draw the aroused attention to the unbounded purpose of the Redeemer, how all nations appeared before Him! Love to man as man; and how the darkened mind is to be spiritualized. The beautifully enlarged and consoling sympathies of the Gospel, which are meant throughout to insure humility, love, and peace,