return with them. The Count Montini had shewed himself affectedly devoted to me from the moment of his entrance--and the family of the Bellairs finally retreated, in very ill humour with their visit to Cadenabbia.

CHAPTER XLIII.

LAKE ADVENTURES.

Pleasures are few-still fewer we enjoy,
Pleasure, like quicksilver, is bright and coy;
We strive to grasp it with our utmost skill,
Still it eludes us and it glitters still;

If seiz'd at last-compute your mighty gains,
What is it but rank poison in your veins ?

YOUNG.

LETTER XLII.

CAROLINE ST. CLAIR TO MRS. BALCARRIS.

Cadenabbia, Saturday.

MISFORTUNES, like sheep, are gregarious;' says a witty author, and mine have flocked together in droves. But without anticipation I will now recommence the recital of my luckless adventures where I left them off.

The morning following that on which I last wrote to you, Count Montini made a party of his own guests, with Lord Lumbercourt and ourselves,

to sail up the lake and land upon all the most celebrated spots upon its shores. The morning was beautiful and the sail most delightful. We visited the ruins of the Castle of Musso, celebrated in history. We stopped at the village of Gravedona, at the base of the snow-covered mountain of that name, where we found, to our great surprise, all the women dressed like Capuchins,-in consequence, they told us, of some ancient vow made by their ancestors. We saw several iron founderies, which work the iron-ore from the mines in the mountains which surround the lakes. We saw a silk mill, and a paper mill; villas, and villages, and churches, and caverns innumerable. We then landed at the Fiume Latte, where a furious torrent or cascade of milky whiteness and icy coldness, falls in a sheet of foam during the whole of summer, refreshing the ear and the eye with its music and freshness, during the fervid heats of that season; and when winter comes, its frigid torrent ceases, nor begins again to flow, till the sun's rays once more renders its cool waters delightful. I need scarcely tell you that it arises from the melting of the snows on the mountains, and that it is chained up by the power of frost. From thence we went to the Orrido di Bellano' a fall formed by the Pioverna, a river of some magnitude, which descending from the mountains of the valley of Sassina far above, roars down a deep winding cleft in the solid rock, so narrow that the precipices of terrific depth are scarcely six feet asunder, in any part, and seem to have been reft in twain by some tremendous convulsion of nature. From a bridge, suspended by chains over this horrid abyss, you cast your shuddering gaze on either side, down into the dark deep chasm far beneath, and see the boiling pent up stream working

its way through the narrow rocky channel, while its thundering reverberation deafens your senses. From the bottom of the fall, which is more than two hundred feet in perpendicular height,-the foaming torrent, the narrow chasm, the tremendous height of the yawning precipices, the trees which shade it, and the Alpine bridge hanging in air which crosses it, have a most striking and awful effect. The long winding perspective of trees and pendant shrubs which overhang it as if they too could not resist the fascination of looking down into this horrid chasm'-add powerfully to the character of this singular scene.

The last visit we made, was to the point of Belaggio, nearly opposite to our inn at Cadenabbia, and by far the finest feature of the lake. It stands boldly forward where this beautiful sheet of water separates into three noble branches-or three lakes. That which descends to Como forms one arm; that parallel to it, which leads to Lecco, the other; and the main branch, which we had partly ascended, and down which we were now sailing, extends nearly to Chiavenna, situated at the head of this magnificent lake, far amidst the distant sinuosities of the Alps.

As we approached Belaggio, we gazed with still increasing admiration upon the peculiarly graceful form of this beautiful promontory, stretching forward amidst the waters; its steep verdant declivity shaded with noble pines, and cypresses, and chestnut woods, and bathed on three sides by the calm blue waters of the sunny lake; the half discovered caverns in its rocks, once the haunt of banditti; the ruined fortress on the summit; and the singular perspective of the three lakes, shut in on every

side by towering Alps, yet peopled with every image of peaceful life, and beauty, and happinessas if those majestic barriers of nature excluded these happy shores from all the crimes and sorrows of the world, yet sheltered all its pure and innocent pleasures.

I had lingered near the mouldering walls of the old castle on the height of the promontory, gazing upon the magnificent scenery, which I might never again behold-and Count Montini alone was by my side, when he called my attention to some ladies who were bowing to me from below. I looked and beheld Lady Bellairs and her daughters, and with them-Mr. Lindsay! Yes! it was himself. Surprise and emotion at seeing him, made me start and utter an involuntary exclamation; then confusion at having betrayed feelings for which I could not account, overwhelmed me ; and he cast upon me such a withering look,' that my blood seemed to congeal in my veins-my limbs shook-and my tongue refused its office.

"Count Montini and you seem enjoying a very sentimental tête à tête all alone, in this romantic scene, Miss St. Clair,' called to us the shrill tones of Miss Emily Harriet Theodosia's voice. 'It is quite the spot for romance.'

I could not speak. One cold cutting bow of recognition had Mr. Lindsay made me, and this was the only notice he took of me. He never spoke, -yet Georgiana, he did not see me unmoved. The pale cheek, the parched quivering lip, the tremulous eye, and unsteady step, betrayed his inward agitation. The ladies pursued their way down to their boat below. Miss Emily Harriet was leaning on his arm, and he sailed away with them-while they threw back a triumphant glance on the Count 7

VOL. III.

and myself, left standing on the point, as their boat rapidly receded through the sunny waters of the bright blue lake.

The rest of our party were at this time going over the inside of the villa close by, and were not visible; so that Count Montini and myself alone in this romantic spot, as Miss Emily Harriet sarcastically observed, must have had a strange appear

ance.

As if this was not bad enough, we all adjourned from Belaggio to the Villa Montini, where we dined, at the Italian hour of dinner, which is nearly the same as our luncheon time. Soon after dinner, according to Italian custom, the ladies and gentlemen adjourned together to the gardens, and Count Montini proposed acting charades.' In this favourite diversion, the company are divided into pairs, each gentleman asking a lady to act with him, and every pair in turn go into an adjoining room, to compose a charade; and having rehearsed together how they shall express by action,-successively the first, the second, and the third parts; they return to the rest of the company, who try to guess it, while they act it. The charades were either in French or Italian; if in French, Français' was proclaimed by the couple about to act, on entering. Many of the charades were well devised, and admirably acted; and afforded general amusement. Count Montini had asked me to be his associate, and when our turn came to act a charade, we went, as the rest had done before us, into a small cabinet of the Casino, behind the saloon, where the company were assembled, which stands forward into the water; so that the whole front of it, in breadth, opens to the lake. Count Montini, who had asked permission to chuse the charade, which I most willingly gave-had fixed