to her no better than cool treachery. With Edith, the rejected lover would at least receive all the balm which her sympathy could bestow, while his most sensitive delicacy need never dread the wounds of another's pity. The sacred deposite of his affections in her own bosom ran no risk, through the busy medium of aunts and cousins, of becoming current gossip for the agreeable rattles of the day.

When our hero arrived at Tiverton on the following day, he was joyfully surprised to find Edgar there, who proposed to become the companion of his journey.

To offer Waldgrave the consolation of his friendship, in the event of his ultimate misfortune, was, as may be easily imagined, Edgar's motive for undertaking this second journey to Italy.

He had not seen Constance for nearly two years; his affection had continued undiminished; the bitterness of his lot, however, was over, and Edgar was reconciled to that which he knew to be inevitable. He was persuaded that there could be no danger in again beholding her for whom he had already sacrificed all the buoyancy of his nature, and all the enjoyment of his life. A latent regret at the sight of her maturing virtues and beauties might arise; but that inward pang would be trifling compared with the power of initigating Waldegrave's sorrow, whose hopes soared high, in spite of the clouds which lowered around him.

At dead of night, between the sixth and seventh day of their journey, the warm breezes of the South, which even in the ungenial month of November refreshed the reviving vegetation, welcomed them again to the land of beauty and delight. That night neither Waldegrave nor Edgar closed their eyes, and the next morning Negroni rowed them to Viviana.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Oh! grief has changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
Have written strange defeatures in my face.

SHAKSPEARE.

IN silence they proceeded on their sail in sight of those wooded hills which had smiled on the best days of Waldegrave's life. His heart throbbed high. The tint of autumn shone bright over the landscape. In rich hues of yellow and brown the chesnuts waved their spreading heads, while their ivy-twisted branches were distinctly marked through the diminishing foliage. Their sparkling wreaths reflected the sun's rays with such vivid power, that the eye could scarcely gaze on them. The villas and palaces were hardly perceptible in the universal blaze. The sky's deep blue shone cloudless, and again appeared in the smooth lake, interrupted only by the yellow leaves scattered on its surface, thus preserving, by the repetition of her tints, all nature's harmony. To Waldegrave the sight of these familiar scenes was powerfully affecting, and, ere he reached Viviana, had well nigh borne down the firmness which he had laboured to acquire for his approaching meeting with Edith.

His eyes were intently fixed on Cernobio bay, where Edith's tones of deep affection (so he had fondly fancied them) rose wildly between him and the assassin's knife, as they glided under the Viviana walls. Edgar, to whom Negroni had announced their arrival, now informed Waldegrave in a low voice, that there seemed to be a party in the garden. Waldegrave started, but dared not so much as to raise his

eyes.

Silently, for neither ventured to break the awful repose, or even to cast an eye towards the hallowed spot, they now entered the boat-house. It was some relief, while disembarking, to find that their arrival had been unperceived. The party, having already turned, were seen walking with faces averted from our travellers. A single glance simultaneously arrested both. The ladies were arm in ann, she

in the middle, by her jet black locks, must be Almina Villanza. The brown-haired sisters, with their rich flowing tresses, and graceful forms, could not be mistaken. By Edith walked Villanza, and beyond him Rathallan. A little removed from the groupe, Sir Ralph appeared to be engaged with his flower-beds.

The sight of Villanza by Edith's side was so appalling to Waldegrave that he would gladly have retraced his way to Como, and involuntarily looked back.

“What shall we do?" said he, pausing under the thick grove, which cast its shade round him 66 ; we must stay till some one comes to announce us."

"Surely, so much form is not necessary," replied Edgar, whom that brief glance of Constance had inspired with the long-forgotten impulse of joy.

At this moment the party again turned round. Secure in their retreat, Waldegrave and Edgar paused, each eager to gaze on the object of his love.

Constance, whose elasticity of soul was unchanged as her form, looked as she had ever looked-unfading bloom was on her cheek, and the bright light of hope and pleasure shone in her eye. The sound of her voice came like delicious music to Edgar's ear, and at that moment his whole countenance declared, in struggling emotions, the rapture of his heart.

But Edith was changed. "Why," thought Waldegrave,. "has the bright hue forsaken that cheek? why is that eye so sunk and pensive. She who was once to me the light of this dark world, seems mournful as my own sad heart, that once anticipated heaven's rich blessings through her love alone!"

As the beacon's trembling beam, along the horrid wasteof waters, bids the distracted spirit of him who sees death yawning round, cling again to the thought of earth's affections, through Waldegrave's bosom flashed the light of hope. But now it as instantaneously departed, lost in tenfold darkness of the soul.

Though unseen by others, Rathallan's eagle eye disco. vered the two friends, whom (immediately breaking from his party) he advanced to meet. Warmly he greeted them.. particularly Waldegrave, whose hand he wrung with the hearty grasp of trusty friendship. "You have made good speed," he said, with an affected cheerfulness of air, though

the lugubrious expression of his eye almost belied the gayety he seemed labouring to throw into his features.

Waldegrave, whose intense gaze was riveted on Edith, heard not Rathallan's words, and continued silent till the ladies, with Villanza, joined them.

It were difficult to say on which of the fair sisters' neck and brow mantled the deepest blush. On Edith's it was more remarkable from the previous paleness of her cheek. Their reception of the lovers was, however, very different. At the sight of her friends, Constance bounded forward, and exclaimed, with unconcealed delight, "Mr. Belmore, is it you? I am very glad to see you :" and the long cordial shake she gave his hand confirmed the words she spoke : "and you too, Henry! Oh! this is joyful indeed; you are both come to stay with us, and we shall have happy days again."

But Waldegravé, whose heart throbbed as if it would burst, pressed forward towards Edith, and almost seized her hand. She surrendered it coldly, withdrew it again immediately, and addressing Edgar, said she was glad to see him. The bitter pang of congealed hope, combined with the keen sense of mortification, rendered Waldegrave almost speechless, as Villanza and his sister advanced to welcome him. The young duke greeted Henry with the same openheartedness that invariably characterized him, and, in spite of his injuries, Waldegrave felt that he could not repulse the noble Milanese.

"Why, Henry Waldegrave, is it you?" said Sir Ralph, who had just discovered him : "I never thought to see you here again. Ever welcome! ever welcome! Do you come from old England ?"

"I quitted that country a week ago," said Waldegrave. "How is Lady Vivian?"

"Why, pretty well," said Sir Ralph ; for her."

"we'll soon send

"I will tell her," said Edith, and instantly disappeared. "But you have made quick work of your journey," said Sir Ralph. "Well, hope you are going to stay some time with us. My girls missed you sadly last year; there was not half so much singing or rowing on the lake after you left us. Why, how now, Mr. Belmore, are you here too? Bravo! this is as it should be; last year we wanted you terribly; but I fancy you were too much taken up by the opera

at Milan to think poor little Como worth visiting. Well: well! we shall be merry now. You'll stay a little while with us; won't you?"

Edgar answered undecidedly, for the reception which Edith had given Waldegrave hardly led him to suppose that his friend would linger long at Viviana."

"Hesitation promises slenderly; so much the worse, said the hospitable Baronet; "but we will not anticipate evil, and talk of parting just when we are meeting. And what's put parting in my head ?"

"It may be far away,"

sang Constance, in the words of the old song, as she gave a hand to either friend, and the tear glistened bright in her eye. "Come, my cousin and friend; let us to my lady mother." So saying she conducted them to Lady Vivian.

In the well-known arbour they again took their seats. Edgar, whose eye glowed with a joy long extinct, gazed on the lovely Constance, and seemed to devour her words; and she, whose spirits were overflowing at the sight of her former companions, conversed with a fire and animation that showed the warm current of feeling fresh as when it first gushed from the fountain. As their exuberant gayety scarcely permitted a separate conversation with Lady Vivian, Henry had time for thought, and marvelled at Edgar's former long 'despondency.

When Lady Vivian and her daughter had retired to the house, Waldegrave sauntered in the garden with Rathallan and Edgar, revolving anxiously in his mind the difficult question whether to stay or go.

They were shortly interrupted by the arrival of Montara, whose surprise at seeing our hero was inexpressible.

He plied Waldegrave with many indirect questions as to the motive of his journey, the duration of his stay at Como, and his companionship with Mr. Belmore, on whom, when informed of his name, Montara looked with an uneasy eye.

Waldegrave, whose mind was engrossed by other matters. answered the subtle Italian almost at random; yet had he time to observe that his look was ruffled, and his manner less courteous than it had formerly been.

The polite Montara, however, checked or concealed the ill humour which their presence had produced, and re